The Return of the Medjai
by poorpiratelass
Summary: Sequel to Self Esteem. Four years after Madeline O'Connell left Egypt, the reincarnation of Anck-su-namun decides to resurrect Imhotep and take on the Scorpion King. Now Madeline and ex-lover Ardeth Bay are reunited on a quest to save the world. Again.
1. His Duty

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

Summary: Madeline O'Connell is living with her brother's family in London, working at the British Museum. Ardeth Bay is still living in the Egyptian deserts, performing his duties as chieftain of the twelve Med-jai tribes. But when the reincarnation of Anck-su-namun, enlisting the aid of a museum curator and an enemy tribe of the Med-jai, decides to resurrect Imhotep and take on the Scorpion King, the two ex-lovers are thrown back into one another's paths. Can they overcome mummies, Anubis warriors, a council-appointed bride and their own insecurities, and finally live happily ever after? Or will they require a little bit of help... in the form of Madeline's best friend Jonathan Carnahan and Ardeth's younger sister Nasira Bay? Sequel to Self Esteem.

AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed Self Esteem! I hadn't planned on releasing the sequel so soon, but... I changed my mind! I started writing, and well... yeah. So, here it is: the sequel to Self Esteem! Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers and enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 1: His Duty

Nasira Bay had always thought the love story of Imhotep and Anck-su-namun was absolutely beautiful.

That was what she called it: a love story. Despite constant rebuke from first her parents and later her older brothers, she could not bring herself to call it anything else. To her, the tale of the Creature would always be a love story.

The other Med-jai did not see it as such. Her tribesmen called it a tragedy – a story of betrayal. And perhaps it was all those things: a tragedy, a tale of betrayal, and a love story. She knew Imhotep and Anck-su-namun had acted wrongly, but still the story spoke to her of eternal love.

It was the first story she had ever been told, and she would always love it. There was something about a good love story that Nasira simply could not get enough of. The suspense, the intrigue, the adventure… the romance, the tragedy, the preferably bittersweet ending. Endings always had to be bittersweet. Happy ones did not ring true; sad ones were too depressing. Nasira adored a bittersweet ending.

She had always wanted to live one of those stories. Not a romance, exactly. For her, it was the adventure, the excitement, and the profound, epic sense of importance that called her name. Romance was a bonus, one that she could live without. Love was a beautiful thing to watch, but not necessarily to live.

The Med-jai lived an epic adventure everyday, this was true. A dime store novel could be written about her people. But it was one thing to sit in her tent all day and listen to the stories of her brothers, and quite another thing to go out and live them.

But things had changed considerably in the last four years. No longer was Nasira forced to sit on the sidelines, to remain in her tent, to only hear the stories. Now she traveled to Hamunaptra, to Cairo, attended council meetings… she had seen battle, prevented theft, killed men twice her size.

She had Madeline O'Connell to thank for that.

Her eldest brother was Ardeth Bay, chieftain of the twelve Med-jai tribes. Once Nasira had turned nineteen – a mere month after she'd met Madeline O'Connell – he had allowed his younger sister entrance into the ranks of his warriors. He had not always been so accepting of the idea that his sister might become a warrior, of course. Nasira suspected he was still not entirely thrilled. She knew her other brother, Yasir, was completely furious about the whole thing, and he probably always would be. He had, after all, managed to maintain his fury over four long years already and there was no sign it might abate anytime soon. Yasir almost deserved praise, actually. His dedication was inspiring.

When the decision had been made, Ardeth had told Yasir that the only way to cure Nasira of her taste for battle was to give it to her; that once she had experienced a warrior's life, her romantic notions would vanish and she would be begging to return to her tent. Even then, Nasira had known simply by the look in Ardeth's eyes that he had not believed those words. He had known what his acceptance would result in, and he had been right. Exposure to a soldier's life had only increased her hunger for action and adventure, and she had no intention of _ever_ returning to her tent. Yasir had once believed otherwise. He now knew she was on the front to stay. His disappointment radiated off him like a foul stench that was only made worse by the heat.

She knew it had been Madeline O'Connell who had changed Ardeth's mind. Such a pity she could not have done the same for Yasir. Ardeth had met Madeline nine years ago, when for the first time in thousands of years, the Creature the Med-jai had sworn to stand guard over had been resurrected. They had returned him to the grave. Five years after that, Madeline had reentered Nasira's brother's life as an active participant in the Med-jai struggle to stop the resurrection of a particularly nasty Egyptian pharaoh. She'd joined the fight, pistols blazing, with too many opinions and not enough sense to keep them to herself. Nasira had loved her from the start. Madeline had been strong, brave, and even funny… and she had an endearing awkwardness that made it impossible not to befriend her. It had not surprised Nasira when Ardeth had fallen in love with her.

The love affair had not ended well, but the young American woman had left a lasting impression on Nasira's brother. She had opened Ardeth's mind just enough to allow Nasira's entrance into the world of Med-jai warriors to become possible. But most importantly – and this was the reason Nasira's thoughts had turned to love stories on this blazingly hot, unforgivably bright day in the desert – Ardeth Bay had never fallen out of love with Madeline O'Connell. He had continued to love her for the past four years, and showed no signs of forgetting her or of marrying another… and Nasira knew, if he saw her tomorrow, that the two of them would pick up right where they left off.

Which explained why she was so incredibly furious with Yasir right now.

The three siblings were standing out at the corral, watching the horses huddling for shade by the stables. Ardeth leaned on his forearms, resting against the worn wooden fence and staring determinedly into the corral, purposely not looking at his younger brother. His large, dark brown eyes fixed on the huddle of black horses, strain evident in his jaw line, despite the dark, neatly trimmed beard that attempted to hide it. He could have been carved from stone.

Yasir was at his side, facing Ardeth's profile. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, and he was glaring at his older brother. Nasira was always struck by how they could look so alike, and yet not look like one another at all. Yasir had his brother's wavy black hair, his beard was trimmed in a similar style, and he had the same stern, stress-creased forehead and thick eyebrows. There were slight differences, of course. He did not have the same nose, or the same lips, or the same eyes. The eyes were the most noticeable difference. Ardeth and Nasira shared the same large, dark, and – as she had often been told – beautiful eyes, but Yasir had taken after his mother. They were a lighter brown, almost golden, like the eyes of Ardeth's hawk Horus.

Nasira stood directly behind her brothers, watching with great impatience as the two of them argued. They had just come from a council meeting, and the council of commanders had delivered some disturbing news – news that had greatly upset Nasira, and by the looks of it, Ardeth as well.

"This cannot go on," Yasir was saying now. Apparently he was oblivious to the dark scowls Nasira had been sending his way, so she decided to speak up.

"It isn't anyone's business but Ardeth's," she snapped. Yasir sent her a nasty look, and then returned his gaze to Ardeth. "I mean it, Yasir. Leave him alone."

Nasira was always inclined to take Ardeth's part over Yasir's. She loved both her brothers, but the strong, affectionate, and intimate bond that existed between her and Ardeth did not exist between her and Yasir. Yasir didn't seem bothered by it. He didn't even seem all that bothered by her interference. He simply ignored her, just as he usually did.

"Ardeth," Yasir said sternly, but not unkindly. "Brother. Listen to me. You heard the verdict delivered by the council of commanders. You must know they are right. You must recognize they've only waited this long to say something out of respect. You have been a good chieftain to us – you saw us through the turmoil of Father's murder, you saw us through the resurrection of the Creature, and you saw us through the attempt to raise Nitocris. You have fulfilled all of your duties… except one. And the council will not wait any longer. They should not have to."

"I know," Ardeth spat, still not looking at his brother, or even his sister. "I was there, remember? I am head of the council after all."

Nasira could tell by Ardeth's response that Yasir was treading on thin ice. If he kept pushing, Ardeth was going to explode. And she knew Yasir would keep pushing. Ardeth's fury did not frighten the middle Bay nearly as much as it should.

Yasir sighed rather harshly. "Then you know why they insist…"

"This is ridiculous," Nasira interrupted, hoping to take the heat off Ardeth and put it on her instead. "The commanders have a lot of nerve. Ardeth is _chieftain_. They cannot force him to…"

"I think you'll find they can, Nasira," Yasir fairly growled. "Certain safeguards have been built into Med-jai law to prevent the rise of a dictatorship. The council _does_ have the power to…"

"Yes, yes, I know!" Nasira rolled her eyes, impatience evident on her face and in her voice. "I understand Med-jai law, Yasir! But this is different! This is his life!"

"It is _not_ his life!" Yasir thundered. "It is his duty to provide the Med-jai with an heir! It is the oath he swore when he took on the responsibility of chieftain! And if he does not marry soon, the council will see his refusal to marry as neglect of his duty!"

"I am right here!" Ardeth bellowed at his two younger siblings, spooking the horses. "There is no need to argue about my life as if I am not! The council has done enough of that as it is!"

Nasira looked at the ground, immediately abashed. "I am sorry, Ardeth."

"I'm not," Yasir retorted. "The council has hand-picked the perfect bride for you! And she is willing to marry you, if only you ask! And still you do nothing! You cannot hide from this forever!"

"And am I not free to marry whomever I choose?!"

Yasir snorted. "Only if you actually choose someone. So far, it seems your choice has been no one."

Nasira knew that wasn't entirely true. She saw Ardeth's lip twitch, and knew it was time to intervene. "Leave him be, Yasir. You could not understand."

"I understand perfectly! You are blind to your own fortune, Ardeth! Sameya Al Tufayl is a beautiful woman. She is also modest, and sweet, and dutiful. She would make anyone an excellent wife – and she would make you an excellent queen. Yet you ignore her as if…!"

"I do not even know her!" Ardeth snapped.

"You have not even tried!"

"And why should he!" Nasira cut in. The mention of the so-called perfect bride had gotten her as angry as Ardeth.

Yasir ignored her again. "I know what your problem is. Why you won't even look in Sameya's direction. Everyone knows. You are still in love with her."

Ardeth's jaw tightened. "Yasir, don't," Nasira said in a low, warning voice.

"You are still hung up on that silly American girl with the pistols and the blue eyes."

There was no menace in Yasir's tone, which surprised Nasira. She had expected otherwise. Yasir almost sounded sympathetic. But Ardeth's eyes narrowed angrily, his jaw getting even tighter. "Her name is Madeline."

"Yes, Madeline," Yasir agreed. "Madeline O'Connell. You are still in love with her."

Ardeth turned on his brother, eyes flashing. "It is none of your business."

"You are in love with her," Yasir pushed on mercilessly. "Yet you sit out here and mope and do nothing. It is not fitting of a warrior."

"Watch your tone," Ardeth snapped. "You may be my brother, Yasir, but I am still your superior."

"Yes," Yasir returned. "And you are bound by the constraints of duty to marry and produce an heir. So the way I see it, _brother_, you can either go to England, find Miss O'Connell, and ask her to marry you… or you can accept your lot, and marry Sameya." Yasir looked into the corral. "I know what I would choose."

"I am not you," Ardeth retorted.

"No. You are not. So if you are going to go to England, you best do it soon."

Nasira was taken aback by Yasir's words. Was he advising Ardeth to marry Madeline? Because if he was, well… perhaps the end of the world was coming again.

Before anyone could speak, they were interrupted by the arrival of a young, teenage boy running towards their little trio, breathless. "Chieftain! Chieftain!"

"What?" Ardeth snapped at the fledgling warrior, clearly not in the best of moods.

The boy hesitated for a mere moment before swallowing his discomfort and saying, "A team of diggers have found the burial place of Hamunaptra, Chieftain. They have begun to dig. We think they are looking for the Creature."

All three members of the Bay family stiffened, their brows furrowing in identical grimaces. "We will ride out at once," Ardeth announced.

"I will gather the rest of the men," Yasir added.

"Is the watch still stationed nearby the dig site?" Ardeth asked the young boy.

He nodded. "Yes, Chieftain. They sent me alone as messenger. Captain Yazan also wanted you to know this: the diggers are led by a woman. An American. She seems to know things about the City that no one alive should be able to know."

Again, the Bays stiffened. "A woman?" Ardeth repeated.

"Yes, Chieftain. And… she has several of the Red Scarves with her."

Nasira felt her stomach turn over at the mention of the Med-jai's sworn enemies. A quick glance at her brothers confirmed that they too were rattled. Yasir's upper lip had drawn back in an intended snarl, and there was a far off, haunted expression in Ardeth's eyes. "Is Lock'nah leading them?"

The boy nodded.

"Run back to your captain," he ordered the boy. "Tell him not to make a move. He will have reinforcements shortly. We will infiltrate, not attack."

The boy nodded again, and then raced towards his horse. Soon, the young scout and his animal were a mere black speck against the hazy horizon.

"I will issue the command to move out," Yasir announced.

Ardeth nodded. "At once."

Yasir strode purposefully through the camp, yelling for the warriors not on watch duty to prepare to ride to Hamunaptra.

Ardeth walked briskly towards the tent belonging to Baheera Yazan. Nasira had to jog to keep up with his fast pace and long legs. "Ardeth," she said. "If Lock'nah is out there, than shouldn't we…?"

"We will not talk of revenge," he cut her off, anticipating her question. "Not yet. Not until we know what we are dealing with."

Nasira nodded. "Do you think Nagesi is out there as well?"

He shrugged. "I care not if it is one Zubayr brother or both. First we stop them from finding the creature, and then we stop them from ever harming the Med-jai again."

They had reached the tent. An older woman of about fifty years of age ran out to greet them as if she were much younger. She had neglected to cover her long, salt and pepper hair, or her mostly smooth face, save the bird's feet at her eyes. Nasira smiled slightly. Baheera Yazan had little use for tradition, and she was old and respected enough to get away with it.

"Ah, my favorite niece and nephew!" she crowed, wrapping Ardeth in a hug. Ardeth hugged her back, affection softening his hard, determined face. Baheera stepped back from him and hugged Nasira next. "Let me guess. The warriors are riding out, and you'd like me to pack your provisions?"

Ardeth smiled. "That sounds about right."

Baheera smiled back. "Well, only for my favorites." Her good natured smile faded a little. "Is Mas'ud all right?"

Ardeth nodded. "Your son is fine, Aunt. Captain Yazan is simply warning me that diggers have been spotted at Hamunaptra."

Relief creased the middle-aged woman's face at hearing that her son the prestigious Med-jai guard captain was fine – relief that was soon replaced once again by worry. "Diggers at Hamunaptra?"

He nodded. "And Red Scarves."

"Lock'nah? Nagesi? Both?"

"Lock'nah for certain," Ardeth replied. "Nagesi has not been spotted. Thank you for helping us prepare to ride out, Aunt Baheera. I must see to my men. Nasira, help our Aunt and then join the warriors."

Ardeth walked away, in the same direction that Yasir had gone.

Baheera harrumphed. "You? Help me? When is that boy going to learn you are a warrior, not a handmaiden?"

Nasira smiled at her aunt's indignation on her behalf. "I'm simply glad to have made it this far, Aunt Baheera."

"Your father never expected me to do woman's work when I was a soldier. No, not until I gave up my career to raise your cousins was I expected to do anything of the sort. I have a good mind to give that boy a whipping. He's not too old to turn over my knee, you know."

There was a reason Baheera was Nasira's favorite aunt… and it was the same reason that Nasira was Baheera's favorite niece. Nasira smiled fondly at her indignant aunt. The woman was over fifty years old and had not seen battle for more than two decades, yet she was still as fearsome and powerful as ever. "He may not be too old," Nasira replied jokingly. "But he _is_ chieftain now."

"Chieftain or not chieftain, I am still his aunt. I half raised that boy… oh, never mind. He will come around, I suppose. He is more liberal minded than his father ever was, and his father came around too. Although I suspect my older sister had something to do with that."

Any other time, Nasira would have longed to hear more about her mother. Every time Baheera said the words, 'I suspect my older sister had something to do with that,' they prefaced some amusing tale about Wahidah Bay. But there was no time for such stories today.

Baheera seemed to sense that as well, because instead of launching into a story, she simply smiled sadly and fingered a loose strand of Nasira's long black hair. Nasira stared at her aunt, who stared back at her with her gold hawk eyes – eyes that looked just like Yasir's, and yet brimmed with something that Yasir did not possess.

"You are the very image of her," Baheera murmured. "Except your eyes. Those are your father's eyes."

Then, just as suddenly as the moment had come, it was gone again. Baheera released Nasira's hair and frowned over her shoulder. "Why is the Al Tufayl girl coming towards my tent? Shouldn't she be preparing her brother's provisions?"

Nasira looked in the direction her aunt was looking and saw Sameya Al Tufayl making her way towards them. "Her brother was on guard duty," she answered her aunt. "He is already at Hamunaptra. She is probably coming to help you prepare Ardeth's provisions."

"That's thoughtful," Baheera murmured. "Seeing as I have three people to make provisions for. I'm just glad my sons aren't in need of my services as well."

Nasira was quiet, looking at the ground and chewing her lip. Baheera knew immediately that Nasira wasn't telling her something. "Oh, I see that look. Spill, missy, right now. Why is Sameya helping me?"

Nasira met her aunt's eyes, her feelings about Sameya clear on her face. "The council decided Ardeth has waited too long to marry. They have appointed Sameya as his bride. I suspect she is practicing her wifely duties."

Baheera didn't look any happier about Nasira's announcement than Nasira was. "Has he proposed?"

Nasira shook her head.

"Good. I don't want him marrying that little slip of a girl. Can you imagine…?"

"He has no choice. If he doesn't find someone of his own accord and soon, the council will force him to marry her."

Baheera looked indignant. "That is ridiculous! They would make one another miserable! I mean, Sameya is a sweet girl, I have nothing against her. But she is all wrong for your brother! Besides, what of that American girl you were telling me about? The one you claim has been the reason for all his moping? Surely he hasn't…"

"You are probably the only member of the tribe who would advocate Ardeth marrying Madeline," Nasira murmured ruefully. "You and I, that is."

Baheera snorted. "They'd get over it. Their council appointed bride over there isn't even full blooded Med-jai, after all. Her mother was a Greek!"

Nasira had forgotten that. "Allah, you are right!"

"Aren't I always? Oh, never mind then. I shall tolerate her assistance – for now. But she won't be marrying _my_ Ardeth, though, not if I have anything to say about it. And you, young lady, you better go get your horse! No women's work for you, you here me? Get out of here – and if your brother asks, you tell him I said there is no room for warriors in my kitchen. Go on!"

Nasira kissed her aunt good-bye and then ran off towards the stables before Baheera decided to give her a good kick in the rear. She was not above such an act… Nasira had seen her do it countless times before.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the Med-jai had congregated in the center of camp, ready to pull out and head for Hamunaptra. Women and young boys were helping the warriors load their provisions for the journey. Hamunaptra was only a short ride away, but there was never any way of telling how long the warriors might be forced to stay out there. The Bays stood together, watching as their middle-aged aunt raced towards them, two bundles in her hands. A young woman followed close behind, carrying a bundle of her own. Unlike Baheera, the young woman had covered her hair with a long scarf and tied another one over the bottom half of her face.

"Sorry, sorry!" Baheera called out, finally reaching them. "Not as young as I used to be."

She went to Nasira's horse first and began strapping down one of the bundles. Nasira moved to help her.

The young woman accompanying Baheera walked over to Ardeth's horse, her eyes trained on the ground. "I have prepared your provisions, Chieftain," she murmured almost apologetically, in her soft timid voice. She set about tying the bundle to his saddle.

Nasira heard the voice and grimaced. Sameya Al Tufayl. It was true; she was a sweet girl. There was really nothing wrong with her. But Nasira could not bring herself to like the girl Yasir and the council claimed was perfection.

"Thank you, Sameya," Ardeth said, clearly surprised.

Baheera exchanged a look with Nasira as she finished tying down the bundle, and then moved towards Yasir's horse with the last bundle of provisions. "It was good of you to do that," Yasir spoke up as his aunt tied the bundle to his saddle. There was an odd, proud note to his voice as he commended his brother's supposed future bride. He gave Ardeth a sidelong, almost scolding look as he praised Sameya. "Seeing as my brother has no wife to do so, and his sister is otherwise preoccupied."

Yasir's sidelong and scolding look transferred from Ardeth to Nasira, as though resentful that her career as a warrior had so inconvenienced her brothers. He probably _was_ resentful, Nasira thought in annoyance.

Baheera gave Yasir an irritated glare behind his back. If they weren't in such a hurry, Nasira would have bet Baheera would have given the younger of the Bay brothers a severe tongue lashing.

Sameya bowed her head, bending slightly at the knees. A slight blush colored the tops of her cheeks. Nasira grew more and more resentful of the girl famed as the beauty of the Hamunaptra Med-jai tribe. She was beautiful; this was true, even if her skin did happen to be paler than any of the other Med-jai women – a result of her half Greek origins. Her eyes were a strange but gorgeous marbling of dark green and brown. A few loose strands of her long, shiny black hair had fallen out of her scarf during her mad dash across camp, catching the sunlight. In the sun, Sameya's black hair reflected a hint of navy blue.

Nasira ground her teeth in annoyance. Beautiful or no, she'd be damned if she watched Sameya marry Ardeth.

"Yes, thank you," Ardeth said again. He gave Yasir an agitated frown.

"Have a good journey," Sameya practically whispered, never lifting her eyes from the dirt.

Ardeth nodded again, and then climbed up on his horse. Nasira examined Sameya one last time as she did the same. She couldn't help but regard all possible suitors in the case of her eldest brother in the same resentful and disobliging way. It was more than Sameya's beauty that discredited her in Nasira's eyes. It even went deeper than Nasira's affection for Madeline O'Connell. Plainly put, Nasira knew Ardeth was sought after by the vast majority of the Med-jai women. He was more than a very handsome young man; he was chieftain of all twelve of their tribes. Marrying Ardeth would put any woman in a very powerful position. Nasira knew any woman chasing after him was nothing more than a power-hungry, gold-digging…

Shock interrupted Nasira's bitter thoughts. Yasir walked past Sameya to get to his horse. As Nasira watched, she saw Yasir turn his head towards Sameya, his eyes practically burning holes in the beautiful young woman's face. Sameya finally raised her eyes just enough to meet Yasir's. He walked past her, his eyes boring into hers, and she followed him with her own. Even after Yasir had passed her, ceased to look at her, and climbed onto his horse, Sameya's eyes continued to follow him, wistfully, almost longingly.

She suddenly looked away, apparently startled by her own lack of discretion. This was still more unfortunate for Sameya, because then she caught Nasira's eyes instead of Yasir's. Quickly, she bowed her head again, her blush creeping back into her cheeks.

Nasira turned from her and looked over at Yasir. He was back to his old, proud, stone-faced self. Ardeth gave the cry, and the Med-jai were off, racing across the desert.

A peculiar situation had just reared its still more peculiar head, making itself known at last to the youngest of the Bay siblings. It was a surprise, yes, to see Yasir's true affections show themselves, but Nasira was quickly getting over the shock. No wonder Yasir had pushed so hard for Ardeth to marry Sameya. No wonder he would not stop talking of her many virtues. It was just like Yasir to fall for a woman and then push her off on someone else, making it impossible for him to be happy. He was a strange beast of burden, her brother, always putting duty first and happiness second. He could not bear the thought that he might be happy.

But Sameya was another story. Should the council pick her as Ardeth's bride, should Ardeth propose marriage to her… well, the poor girl was stuck, wasn't she? Nasira suddenly disliked Sameya Al Tufayl much less. She could not avoid her duty. She could not refuse the Chieftain. Even if her heart belonged to another… even if that other was the Chieftain's brother. Out of all the power hungry, gold digging women lusting after Nasira's older brother, the council had chosen the one woman who wanted no part of the chieftain, the one woman who did not want to marry him. The injustice of it all wrenched at Nasira's heart.

Her resolve quickened. Ardeth would not marry Sameya. Nasira would make sure of it. The happiness of more than just one brother depended on it. And so did the happiness of more than one young woman.

* * *


	2. Her New Life

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

* * *

Chapter 2: Her New Life

_Clang!_

The shorter of the two white-clad, mask wearing fencers banged a sword into the other's weapon, nearly knocking it from the taller fencer's hand.

"Ha-ha!" he crowed triumphantly.

The shorter fencer's victory was, coincidentally, short-lived. Suddenly, the taller fencer flew at him, sword swinging viciously. A surprised _eep!_ escaped the shorter one as he scrambled to block the blows, stumbling backwards.

For a few minutes more, the two fencers leapt back and forth across the huge, high-ceiling room, dodging punching bags, folded up shooting targets, hanging weaponry, and marble pillars. They made a conscious effort to keep away from the tall, stained glass windows at one end of the room, knowing if they shattered the glass they were in for a world of trouble.

Suddenly, the taller one knocked the other's sword away. The tall fencer's sword came at the other's chest – but then, the shorter one rolled out of the way, snatching up his fallen weapon.

The taller fencer charged at the shorter. He waited for his opponent to approach and then, with no warning, he stomped down on the taller fencer's foot.

The injured fencer swore. Distracted as the tall fencer now was, there was little that could have been done to prevent the short one from disarming his opponent. The tall fencer's sword flew across the room, and the short fencer gently poked the other one in the chest with the tip of his own weapon.

"I win!" he chirped cheerfully.

The taller one knocked his arm away, causing him to drop his sword. Then, the tall fencer reached up and removed the fencing mask. About two to three feet of chestnut brown hair tumbled down out of the white helmet.

Madeline O'Connell narrowed her blue eyes at the other fencer. "Cheater," she announced.

The shorter fencer removed his helmet as well, revealing a head of close cropped dark brown curls, and flourished the fencing mask about theatrically. "I prefer the term 'survivalist' Maddie, my dear," Jonathan Carnahan smirked. He winked at her with his mischievous green-gray eyes.

Madeline sighed, shaking her head at her best friend. Despite her annoyance, she couldn't help the smile fighting to form on her face. She never could stay mad at Jonathan.

"Same thing," she retorted.

"Blah, blah, blah. Don't be a sore loser, old girl. Now, since I won, that means I get to choose tonight's entertainment!"

"Fantastic," Madeline rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. The pub? The racetrack? The gentlemen's club?"

"Oh, don't be silly. I wouldn't make you go to the gentlemen's club. You know, unless it was my birthday. No, tonight we're heading out to…"

"The pub?"

It was Jonathan's turn to roll his eyes. "You are insufferable! Totally stole my moment! Yes, to the pub it is. And you, old girl, better look sharp. It's nigh impossible for a woman to land a beau when she goes out in her older brother's pants and suspenders."

"They're my pants, Jonathan!"

"Ah, but we don't deny the suspenders, then? Why don't you wear that dress Evie bought you for Christmas?"

"Because I hate dresses?"

"Well, I've seen you wear it before."

"To work."

"Maddie…."

"Fine, fine. I'll look pretty. But I'm not trying to land a beau."

"Yes, yes, I know. You took a vow of spinsterhood. That's quite all right, old girl; I plan to be a lifelong bachelor. We'll be single together… forever!"

"That sounds ominous."

Jonathan waved her comment off, already headed towards the hall. "Come along, old girl!"

"I'll be right there! Let me clean up a little!"

Jonathan disappeared into the hallway. Madeline picked up the two swords and the fencing masks and hung them up in their designated spots. Then she sighed and turned around, surveying her large training room.

The training room didn't exactly belong to Madeline, of course. It was actually her older brother's, Rick O'Connell. Everything in the large, grand old manor technically belonged to Rick and his wife, Evelyn. But Madeline made enough use out of the training room that she liked to think it was mostly hers.

At the moment, Rick, Evie, and their eight year old son, Alex, were out of the country. They had headed to Egypt. Thebes, actually. To follow up on some sort of weird dream Evie had had.

Which was ridiculous, in Madeline's humble opinion. What exactly did they think they were going to find there? Just because Evie had been having weird dreams about ancient Egypt didn't mean the small O'Connell family had to go rushing off to Thebes to investigate. Hell, the girl lived and breathed ancient Egypt. Madeline was just surprised she'd never had weird dreams about it before.

But she supposed it didn't really bother her. As much as she loved Rick and Evie – and as much as she adored her little nephew – it was still nice to get the huge house to herself for a little while. She and Jonathan had been members of the O'Connell household for about three years now, and they never had so much fun as they did when the rest of the family took off for Egypt and left them alone in the manor.

Except when Jonathan insisted on going out. Once upon a time, Madeline would have enjoyed hopping from bar to bar, tasting the whiskey, and having a good old drunken time with her best pal. But over the past four years, her taste for whiskey and the nightlife had slowly begun to dissipate.

"Maddie, what the blast are you doing?" she heard Jonathan shout from another part of the house. "Stop bloody cleaning and get ready!"

"Coming!" she called back. She sighed again. Oh, well. It wasn't really about getting drunk. It was about keeping Jonathan out of trouble.

* * *

"I just mean… Egypt, wow. That's like so… exotic!"

Madeline mustered up a smile for the tipsy gambler sitting next to her. Jonathan Carnahan's favorite dog-betting partner Carter Jones, or Jonesy as everyone called him, was sitting beside her at the bar, on his fourth scotch. Madeline was sipping a beer – the first one of the night – and pretending to be interested in Jonesy's conversation.

"Jon-o says you grew up there," Jonesy went on. "I always thought you were American…"

"I am," Madeline interrupted.

"Well, yes, but you spent a lot of time in Egypt, right?"

She faked another smile. "Right."

About this time, Madeline began craning her neck, looking around the bar for her friend, who had done a vanishing act about twenty minutes earlier. Finally, she spotted him, drink in hand, in the corner beside a potted ficus. He was, of course, practically leaning on a blonde girl in a red dress, whose hair was all teased, and whose drink was currently sloshing onto the floor.

No rescue from that department.

"You know, I've been asking Jon-o about you," he went on, his words running together. "I just couldn't figure out why such a pretty, long-legged creature was hanging around with him. I mean, usually Jon-o goes for the blondes, but a pretty gal like you…"

"He's my friend," she interrupted.

"Yes, yes, so I was told. I was always fascinated by Egypt you know. The Sphinx, the Pyramids of Giza, the Parthenon…"

"I'm not an archeologist or anything," Madeline interrupted. "But I'm pretty sure the Parthenon is in Greece."

"Is it?" Jonesy screwed up his face and thought for a moment. "That's not what I heard." As suddenly as the thoughtful look appeared on his face, it disappeared. He laughed. "Oh, well. Guess you would know, right? You're the one who lived in Egypt!"

"Yep," Madeline agreed. "I am."

He gave her a dopey smile. "You know…"

Whatever Madeline knew, Jonesy didn't get the opportunity to tell her. The sound of breaking glass from Jonathan's direction caught Madeline's attention and she turned to see what sort of trouble he'd managed to get into now.

The curly haired blonde looked terrified. Jonathan's drink had been reduced to a pile of glass in a puddle of liquor. A giant bison of a man in a khaki suit was yelling at Jonathan, waving his hands about in a very threatening manner. Jonathan was grinning nervously and holding his own hands up in surrender, all the while backing away and chattering.

Ah. Her night was complete. What was it this time, she wondered? Bad checks? Unpaid bets? Hitting on the wrong blonde?

"Excuse me," she said to Jonesy. Then she promptly got to her feet and almost ran across the bar.

At least she didn't have to talk to Jonesy anymore.

"Now, now, chap, I don't have the faintest idea _what_ you are talking about!" she heard Jonathan exclaim as she approached the quickly escalating situation.

"You owe me money, Carnahan," the bison snapped. "You've lost three track bets, and you haven't paid off any of them. I'm tired of waiting!"

So unpaid bets was the flavor of the night then. Good to know. Not necessary to know, but good none the less.

"Haven't I? No, no, I'm sure I've paid off at least one of them…"

"Save your lies, Carnahan. I told you, I'm tired of waiting and I want to be paid. Now."

"Now you say, old chap? Well, see, that might be a bit of a problem, actually… at the moment, I'm a tad bit broke…"

"Not too broke to buy bimbo here a drink."

"Well, that's just the one, you know, not terribly expensive… and let's not drag the lady into this, shall we? I…"

"Fine. You can't pay. I'll just take your kneecaps."

"You… my… uh, well… Maddie!"

And that was her cue. Madeline sidled up next to Jonathan and grinned big for Mr. Bison. "What seems to be the problem, buddy?"

"Oh thank heavens," Jonathan breathed beside her in relief.

The breaker of kneecaps crinkled up his huge squishy nose at her. "Who are you?"

She shrugged. "Friend of Mr. Carnahan over here. Now, you say he owes you money?"

"You're damn straight he owes me money! For three bets that went south! And if he don't pay up…"

"Well, he doesn't have the money right now," Madeline interrupted smoothly. "And if you break his kneecaps, I'd say there's a significantly lower chance that he'll ever be able to get you that money."

"Well said," Jonathan piped up.

The giant brute of a man didn't look impressed by her logic. That didn't surprise Madeline in the slightest. This debt collector looked like the type who enjoyed smashing things, and when a man like that got the idea of smashing things into his mind, there was no talking him out of it.

"I've given him chances," the man spat. "He doesn't pay after this, I'll risk it. It's about time someone taught this chap a lesson!"

"Ok, let me put this more plainly," Madeline replied. "I can't let you break my friend's kneecaps, no matter how much he may deserve it."

"Hey!" Jonathan cried indignantly.

Jonathan's would-be attacker snorted. "What you going to do about it, little lady? Call the law?"

At this, Madeline – who was a fairly tall, muscularly defined young woman – frowned in both surprise and confusion, taken aback by the name the other man had given her. "Little lady?" she asked incredulously. She looked over at Jonathan. "I believe that's the first time anyone's ever called me that."

"Well, imposing as you may be," Jonathan returned, his voice getting high-pitched and nervous, punctuated with a shaky laugh. "Our friend here is built like an army tank, so… he'd probably even call Rick little lady…"

"I've heard enough," the so-called tank interrupted. "Carnahan, you going to take this outside with me like a man, or am I going to have to drag you out from behind your pal's skirts?"

"Um… I vote drag," Jonathan said, attempting to chuckle. He failed.

The other man's eyes narrowed. "Drag it is then."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute," Madeline spoke up, trying to step in front of Jonathan as inconspicuously as possible. "There will be no dragging."

The bison sighed, rolling his eyes. "Lady, please. It's sweet you're sticking up for your friend and all, but if you don't move, I'm going to have to move you myself. And no one wants that, got it? Please don't make me shove a girl."

"Ok, listen up," Madeline replied, ignoring his plea and holding her ground. "I am not going to let you break Jonathan's kneecaps. And you can't make me move. If you shove me, I'm going to hit you."

He rolled his eyes and without another word, shoved her in the arm. The move looked so effortless, and yet Madeline went flying into a nearby table. The young woman sitting there screamed as Madeline's body knocked over several drinking glasses. The glass shattered against the tiled floor.

Damn. That hurt. The tank was every bit as strong as he looked.

"Maddie?" Jonathan cried in concern. She was sure the concern was as much for him as it was for her.

Wincing, Madeline righted herself. Then she charged the tank, who was advancing on Jonathan in a very menacing manner, and slugged him in the side of the face as hard as she could.

His head tilted to the side with the force of the blow, but no other part of his body moved. Slowly, he turned his head to look her direction. "Ow," he said, mildly impressed. "That stung a little."

"I said I would hit you," Madeline replied.

"You didn't hit me hard enough, sweet pea," he smirked.

His fist came bearing down on her the way a large truck comes bearing down on an unsuspecting squirrel. Fortunately, Madeline wasn't an unsuspecting squirrel. She ducked the fist and danced to the side.

"Now, now, you might want to think about this!" she called. A nervous, high pitch squeak punctuated the words – a squeak very similar to Jonathan's. "Or I'll have to hit you with... uh…"

He grunted and charged before she could finish. Madeline grabbed the nearest object and slammed it into the side of his head. The tank stumbled and fell into the wall. Grinning proudly, Madeline looked down at the object in her hands.

"… with a chair."

Her opponent stumbled to his feet, gripping the side of his face and glaring at her. "That's it," he growled. "I am going to hit a woman. I am actually going to hit a woman. I am going to hit you all over this bar!"

"I think not," Jonathan spoke up from behind the other man. Madeline's opponent whirled around to look at him. Jonathan was holding the man at gunpoint.

The tank's eyes went wide and he stumbled back, his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right," he said. "No need to get violent. We'll discuss your debts at another time, Mr. Carnahan."

"I think that would be best," Jonathan returned coldly.

The tank practically ran from the bar.

"Oh my goodness!" the blonde exclaimed. "Mr. Carnahan, that was so brave!"

Madeline rolled her eyes. Typical. She'd only done most of the work. It was a good thing she wasn't into broads, or she'd be seriously pissed.

"Yeah, Jonathan," she added sarcastically. "Real brave, hiding behind my skirts. Did you forget about the gun until just now?"

"I always come prepared," he returned, giggling. The blonde had her face in the crook of his neck, and Jonathan was ticklish.

"Oh, that's disgusting," Madeline said, her nose crinkling up in repulsion.

Suddenly, Jonathan got very serious. "We better get out of here," he said. "You know, before someone calls the law?"

Madeline got serious too. "Good call," she said, heading for the exit. Jonathan and his date for the night followed close behind. "Because I am not spending another night in the London jail."

* * *

The walk back to the manor was long, cold and wet. That was what Madeline hated the most about England. The cold and the wet. In Egypt, these two particular forms of weather rarely occurred. In Egypt, it was usually hot and dry. And sunny. That was another thing she hated about England. The sun almost never shone here.

Ahead of her, stumbling about drunkenly, Jonathan was walking arm in arm with the lovely Miss Patricia Wicket, as he had introduced her. The two of them were giggling like teenagers as they split the contents of Jonathan's flask. Madeline rolled her eyes from where she walked five feet behind them and hugged her long dove-gray trench coat tighter around her chest. It was freaking freezing outside.

It was cold. It was wet. Madeline's high heels were killing her. For the life of her, she couldn't remember why she'd put them on. She hated heels, and yet she wore them all the time. She was always dressed up here. In Egypt, she'd only dressed up to go to work.

Rick always said he hated Egypt. Well, Madeline was here to tell you that England was no picnic either. She hated it here. Sometimes she wondered what she was even doing in London. Why didn't she just go back to Egypt?

That was an easy question, actually. There was a very good reason she didn't return to Egypt – and no, it had nothing to do with the excellent pay and benefits she received working as secretary at the British Museum. It also wasn't about her family being in England, or even her best friend. The reason she didn't just go back actually had very little to do with what was here in England – it had more to do with what she'd left behind there, in Egypt.

And despite this, it didn't matter that she was surrounded by friends and family; England just wasn't home. Home was down south, across the Mediterranean. Madeline sighed. Even after four years, she still felt like a foreigner here.

Egypt really wasn't such a wonderful place, she tried to console herself. Sure, it was warm and sunny and dry, but it was also dangerous. It took a tough woman to live on her own down there… but that was just the problem. Madeline _was_ a tough woman – a _very_ tough woman – and she was bored in England. She wanted to go back.

But she wouldn't. No, more like she couldn't.

The three bar-hoppers had reached the manor at long last. They shuffled through the two-story iron gates, crossed the circular driveway, and finally unlocked the heavy front door, stepping inside the warm, dry house.

"Bloody hell, is it good to get out of the rain!" Jonathan exclaimed, lifting his arms in celebration. Patricia laughed uproariously.

"Yeah," Madeline said shortly.

"Patricia, why don't you just head upstairs, love, and… get out of those wet clothes." He waggled his thick, dark eyebrows suggestively. "You wouldn't want to catch a cold."

"That's a very good idea, Mr. Carnahan," Patricia replied seductively, backing towards the stairs. Then she turned around and walked on up to the second floor, wiggling her hips for Jonathan's benefit.

Jonathan grinned at Madeline and winked. "I'm retiring early," he said, as though the words implied some little joke that he and Madeline shared. "Wish me luck!"

"Try and stay out of Rick and Evie's bedroom," she replied.

He waved away her concerns and ran up the stairs like a school boy.

Madeline rolled her eyes, hanging up her trench-coat in the hall closet. At least they'd be on opposite ends of the manor for the night… she'd hate to have to listen to Jonathan and his new friend while they were… preventing the catching of colds.

She sighed, removing her hat and plopping it on the hat stand. Then she paused in front of the mirror next door, smoothing out her high ponytail. Madeline sighed again, straightening her black shirt dress, and then walked into the parlor.

In the corner was a writing desk. She stood in the center of the room, contemplating the desk for a moment. On the desktop was an unfinished letter to a friend back in Egypt: Nasira Bay. She considered sitting down and finishing it. The letter could be in the mail the next morning.

Madeline grimaced. Writing a letter sounded excruciating at the moment. She couldn't really handle writing Nasira right now. It was too painful. It reminded her of… well, thinking it would only make matters worse.

Her eyes fell on the small rosewood bar in the opposite corner. Madeline strode slowly over to the bar, deciding to raid Jonathan's stash. That meant no whiskey, of course, but she could make do with scotch.

She layered the bottom of a small glass with ice, and then poured the amber liquid almost to the top. Closing her eyes, she took a small sip… and then another. She glanced over at the writing desk one more time, and then walked out of the parlor.

Madeline ambled towards the training room, occasionally sipping her scotch. She really shouldn't drink. She'd worked so hard on giving it up… she was at the point where she didn't really enjoy it anymore anyway. But tonight was different. Tonight was… special.

She sighed and took another sip. He always used to hate it when she'd drink.

A good reason to start doing it again, she supposed. Or perhaps a good reason to stop. She didn't really know which one was more fitting. But tonight, she needed a little help getting through to the morning.

He probably didn't care anymore. She was probably free to drink as much as she wanted. He was probably married and had small children running underfoot. He was probably happy, while she was miserable.

On this night, every year, she wondered if she should have said yes. She wondered if she'd made a mistake. But deep down, she knew she'd been right to refuse. As unhappy as she was most days, she couldn't bring herself to fully regret her decision.

She drank deeply from the scotch glass. Four years ago tonight had been the last time she'd seen Ardeth Bay.

It had been only two years ago, on this very night, that Madeline had cried her last tears for him, drank herself into her last drunken stupor. After that, things had changed. She had changed. And even though there were nights she wished she'd never met Ardeth Bay, chieftain of the twelve Med-jai tribes, she knew she was a better person for it. She knew she'd changed because of him.

Oh, sure, she was still the same old Madeline deep down. But she was a more mature, more responsible, less drunk Madeline. And she liked herself that way.

There was a creak and a bang from the entrance hall. Madeline froze, setting her drink down on a nearby end table. She'd neglected a coaster, of course, and Evie would probably kill her for that, but she had more important things to worry about right now than water rings. Jonathan and Patricia were assumedly still upstairs – she couldn't imagine why they would have come down – and Rick had said they wouldn't be back until the following evening.

Madeline ducked inside the training room and grabbed her pistols, loading them as quickly as possible. If someone was breaking into her brother's house, they were in for a world of pain.

Slowly, silently, Madeline crept down the hall, pistols at the ready and back against the wall. As she got closer to the parlor, she heard murmuring voices.

She crept across the parlor and secreted herself just beside the door. Then, taking a deep breath, she flew around the corner and leveled her guns at the intruders.

A woman screamed. "Oh my goodness!" beautiful, dark haired Evelyn O'Connell shouted, dropping her bag on the floor.

A small, blonde, eight year old boy grinned wide and waved. "Hi, Aunt Maddie!"

Madeline's tall, broad-shouldered older brother Rick rolled his big blue eyes. "Damn it, Madeline, what the hell are you doing?"

Feeling sheepish, Madeline lowered her pistols, laying them on the chest of drawers under the hallway mirror. "Sorry," she said. "I thought, well… you said you weren't going to be home until tomorrow!"

"She makes a good point, Rick," Evie said, having recovered from her shock. "You did say that."

"Well, maybe I did. But things change… _especially_ when rushing floodwaters are involved."

"Rushing floodwaters?" Madeline inquired.

"Yeah," Rick replied, grinning sarcastically. "The kind that happen inside."

Madeline raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing there's a story here."

"Look, Aunt Maddie!" Alex, her nephew, exclaimed as he dug through the bag his mother had dropped on the floor. Before his mother or father could stop him, he'd hauled a heavy stone chest out of the bag, no bigger than a jewelry box. "Mum and Dad found the Bracelet of Anubis!"

"The huh of the who?" Madeline replied.

"Alex O'Connell, you put that back right now!" Evie ordered.

"Aw, Mum…"

"Where's Jonathan?" Rick asked.

Madeline winced with instant guilt. Fortunately no one noticed. "Uh… sleeping?"

"Oh dear," Evie murmured, clucking her tongue. "Drunk again?"

She grinned. "As always."

"I'm glad you don't do that anymore," she said, heading for the stairs. Rick followed, laden down by their luggage. "Now, Rick, as I was saying, this would be the perfect time to visit…"

"Evie, we just got home!"

"But that's the beauty of it! We're already packed!"

Madeline raised her eyebrow again, turning to her nephew. "So I guess that means _you_ get to tell me the story."

"Oh my gosh, Aunt Maddie, it was bloody brilliant!" Alex crowed, lighting up like the expensive Egyptian curtains that once upon a time existed in the parlor… until Alex became acquainted with matches. "Mum and Dad were down in the tombs and they were looking for something… you know, whatever Mum had that silly dream about… and they found this!"

Despite being told to put the chest back, Alex was still holding it. "That looks heavy," Madeline said, reaching for it. "Why don't you let me hold it?"

"Fine by me," Alex agreed, sounding much older than eight. "Bloody sucker weighs a god dang ton!"

"Alex, watch your language!" Evie shouted from upstairs.

"Rather weighty, this," Alex corrected himself, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Madeline rolled her eyes and took the chest from Alex's outstretched arms. "You know, you shouldn't cuss," she reprimanded him. "Your mother will think I taught you those words."

"But you did," Alex pointed out.

"I did not!" she protested. Alex crossed his arms and gave her a pointed look. "Well, Jonathan and your dad helped! Anyway, do you want your mother to kill me?"

Instantly, Alex sobered. "Sorry, Aunt Maddie."

"You're forgiven, kiddo. Now, you were telling me about Thebes being bloody brilliant?"

"Oh, yeah! It was so cool! Mum and Dad found this chest and the Bracelet of Anubis was inside of it! Here, take a look!"

As Madeline set the stone chest down on one of the round tables in the parlor, Alex whipped a strange necklace out of his coat pocket – plain black cord and an odd star shaped pendent. Madeline automatically winced. Ancient necklaces were a sore spot with her.

But apparently, this necklace wasn't the sort you initially wore for decoration… only to find out it had cursed you. Alex took hold of the pendent, lined it up with a similarly shaped hole on the box, and turned it as if it were a key.

As it turned out, a key was exactly what the pendent was. The lock on the chest clicked, and the lid lifted slightly. Alex opened it up and gestured frantically for Madeline to take a look. "Look! It's the bracelet!"

Madeline peeked inside the chest. Before her lay a huge golden scorpion, with its legs curled backwards as if they were wrapped around something – a wrist, she realized. It was supposed to be a bracelet, remember Madeline? Duh.

"Whoa," Alex breathed.

"Whoa," Madeline agreed. "What is this thing again?"

"The Bracelet of Anubis."

Madeline was starting to feel suspicious. Anytime ancient jewelry and an O'Connell got together, no good ever came of it – she knew from experience. She wondered what sort of horrible bloody prophecy was entwined with this hunk of metal. "And what does that mean? The Bracelet of Anubis? Why's it so important?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. But it sounds cool, right?"

Madeline crinkled her nose. "Sure," she said.

Not even a little teensy bit, sweet, naïve little nephew of mine.

"It's got to be big," Alex went on. "Because when Mum and Dad touched it, the river burst in through the wall!"

"What?" Madeline exclaimed.

"Don't worry, Aunt Maddie, it's all right. I saved them!"

Madeline drew her eyebrows together suspiciously. "How?"

"These tomb robbers showed up while I was alone in the entrance! So I climbed up on this ancient scaffold thing… not very well built, I might add… and I started slinging stones at them with my slingshot, like you and Dad taught me!"

"Really?" Madeline asked, her voice betraying both her excitement and her pride – which was clearly wrong, seeing as she was supposed to be the responsible, mature adult in this equation. She forced herself to frown and cleared her throat. "Maybe not the best idea, Alex."

"Yeah, they caught me," he admitted. "But then the head tomb robber made them all clear out of there and they left me alone! So once they were gone, I knocked over all the pillars in the room…"

"You what?" Madeline exclaimed.

Alex shrugged. "It was an accident."

Madeline rolled her eyes. "You are your mother's son."

"And the pillars hit the wall, and made it bust open…"

"I suppose I should be surprised."

"… and then all this water came rushing out, and there was Mum and Dad! They were fine, Aunt Maddie, don't look so shocked. Anyway, Dad made us leave right after that." There was regret in both the young boy's voice and face.

"Yeah, I wonder why," Madeline retorted. "Tomb robbers, you say?"

"Yep! I scared them away!" Madeline gave him a disbelieving, almost scolding look. "Well, I would have if they hadn't left on their own."

Madeline was frowning, thinking to herself. If there had been tomb robbers… and sudden, inexplicable, indoor flooding – that could mean one thing and one thing only: this Bracelet of Anubis thing was bad news.

"Alex, do me a favor," she said suddenly, knowing even as she asked that it was expecting too much.

"Sure, Aunt Maddie, what?"

"Don't play with the bracelet. Don't even touch the bracelet. In fact," Madeline reached over and shut the chest. "Don't even look at the thing."

"Aw, but Aunt Maddie…"

"I'm serious, Alex. I think that bracelet could spell big trouble for everyone. Just please don't mess with it, ok?" As an afterthought, she added, "And definitely don't wear it."

"Aunt Maddie, it's just a bracelet!" Alex protested. "How could a silly piece of jewelry cause big trouble for _everyone_?"

She smirked. "I'll tell you a story sometime."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You lot are always saying that."

"I mean it, Alex…."

"All right, all right! I won't touch the bracelet!"

"Good. Thank you." Madeline thought for a moment, trying to think up a way to distract her nephew from temptation. "Hey, you want to practice shooting with me?"

Alex brightened. "Hell yes!"

"All right, then," she grinned. "And don't say hell where your mother can hear you."

Alex rolled his eyes yet again.

"Jonathan!" Rick shouted from upstairs. He did not sound happy.

Uh-oh. They'd caught him. She was next. Madeline suddenly remembered the coaster-less drink she'd left in the hall by the training room. "Uh… I'll be right back, Alex. Don't touch anything."

"Ok, ok. Sheesh."

Madeline bolted out of the parlor and headed towards the training room. Just as she was stepping into the hall, she glanced back over her shoulder and saw a forlorn Alex giving the chest a curious, hungry look.

She had a sudden, gnawing feeling in her gut that told her everything was _not_ going to be all right.

* * *


	3. And the Medjai Returns

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: I am so thrilled by all the reviews already! Wow! Big thank yous to you all: SandraSmit19, Lady Nightlord, Lady Knight19, Hayley Jean, midnight-flurry, Ravenclaw Samurai, Nelle07, pirate hero, winged-karma, shivaun18, benzene, zentry, Twimoonclipsedawn, bringmetheangie, jupitorsprings, idkaname, tigerlily124, ZakiChiUmi, TheDevilsVendetta, Read4Ever, and Hakujou Enputi-shigai! Thank you again, and enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 3: And the Med-jai Returns

England was a dreary, dismal place. Ardeth Bay did not care for it one bit. It was cold and wet here, and he had to wear a cloak to ward off the chill. He could barely remember the last time he'd worn a cloak in Egypt.

He strode down the damp, dark streets, his heavy boots pounding against the moist pavement. Beside him, his younger sister Nasira walked silently, her arms wrapped around her in an attempt to ward off the cool night air. They passed neatly trimmed lawns and small trees captured in urban planters. Ardeth eyed it all with disapproval. It was so clean-cut here, so dismal, so… boring.

He hated it.

The two Med-jai passed beneath the dim blue glow of the streetlamps, getting farther and farther away from the bustle of midtown London. They were now approaching the outskirts, where the shops and townhouses and cobblestones had been replaced by large, green estates and huge, stone manors. One of these large manors belonged to the O'Connells. They were getting nearer and nearer to that manor all the time.

Ardeth swallowed, sparing a glance at his sister. Nasira's mouth was set in a grim, determined line. But her dark eyes were twinkling in the light of the streetlamps, her excitement evident. She had begged him to take her along to warn the O'Connell family and retrieve the Bracelet of Anubis. He knew Nasira was close with Rick O'Connell's sister, Madeline, and she was desperate to see her old friend and long term pen pal once again. So he had agreed, even though a part of him – the part that still resisted the idea that Nasira was an adult, and a very powerful warrior – had wanted to leave her at home, tie her up in her tent where she'd be out of trouble, safe from the impending apocalypse. No, that was not an exaggeration. Ardeth could feel the approach of the end with every step he took, every breath he inhaled. Whatever Lock'nah and his Red Scarves were up to with this new player, this impossibly knowledgeable Meela Nais, it could only lead the world to its destruction.

His life seemed to have fallen apart rather quickly, he thought ruefully. First, with the council decision about his marriage, and then with the news of diggers at Hamunaptra. It had only gotten worse from there.

The diggers had been led by a woman named Meela Nais. Her accent had been American, but she had looked Egyptian. There had been Red Scarves, as the scout had warned. Lock'nah, that traitorous bastard, was leading them.

His brother, Nagesi, equally traitorous and possibly even more dangerous, had been nowhere in sight. That actually made Ardeth even more nervous than it would have if he'd seen him there at the dig site.

He had infiltrated the diggers, trying to learn their plans. He had watched, horrified, as they dug up the hunk of crystal that had once been the body of the Creature. And he had heard them speak of the O'Connells.

And that was why he and Nasira were in England. The O'Connells had to be warned that their latest discovery, and subsequently them as well, were being hunted by this Meela Nais and, more importantly, Lock'nah.

There was an older man as well, another Red Scarf. He had heard him called Hafez. Ardeth was not worried about him so much. It was the other two that troubled him. Them, and the Creature… should they resurrect him.

It was all immensely dangerous, and so he rather regretted allowing his little sister, who would inspire his protection for the rest of her life regardless of her status within the Med-jai armies, to come along on this journey. But he had conceded, and he had to live with that concession, knowing full well that it was a concession born of cowardice.

He was afraid to see Madeline O'Connell again.

It was almost funny, and he might have laughed had it been Yasir or another of his men who felt this way. But this fear was all his own. He had faced war and apocalypse with grim acceptance, but it was the idea of meeting Madeline again all on his own that had unnerved him. He had not seen her in four years. He had wanted to, but hadn't. And now he had the chance to see her again, and he was afraid to go by himself.

He had no idea what he would do when he saw her again. Anything was possible. He may kiss her, he may shake her, he may yell at her. He was dreading the moment when they would lay eyes on one another again, for the first time in four long years.

But it was very likely, Ardeth admitted to himself, that when he saw her again his instinct would be to ignore her. He would most likely pretend that their love affair had never happened, and that her presence inspired nothing noteworthy within him. That sounded more like him than any other option he had considered. Though he knew that ignoring her was ultimately the worst option, he also knew it was the easiest. And he was fairly certain it was the route he would choose to take, regardless of his intent.

He had no idea what his intent was.

"Ardeth," Nasira spoke softly beside him. "I think we've found the manor."

Her voice startled him from his thoughts. Ardeth looked up at the manor she had stopped before. Despite being set back quite a distance from the road, it was obviously quite large, built from stone and home to several large statues in the front yard. The edge of the prpperty was separated from the street by a tall, iron wrought fence. Before the front door was a large circular driveway, where several automobiles were parked.

Nasira was frowning from her spot behind a large bush, peering through the fence. "Do they have company?" she wondered out loud.

Ardeth joined her in her hiding spot, watching the manor as well. As they stood, spying, several men stepped from the automobiles and marched on the manor. They were all men who wore red scarves on their heads.

"Damn," Ardeth muttered under his breath. "We are too late."

"Not so," Nasira returned. "They have only just arrived. We still have a chance."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "You will follow the group that headed round back," he ordered. "I will follow the one that went through the front entrance."

Nasira nodded back. "Be careful, brother," she said.

"You as well."

Nasira touched his arm in a reassuring manner, and then slipped through the gate. He watched carefully as she slunk through the O'Connells' foliage, expertly secreting herself from the prying eyes of the Red Scarves.

Then he made his way towards the front entrance, also keeping to the shadows and the shrubbery. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he was going to do when he saw Madeline O'Connell again; rescue her. Just like old times.

* * *

Jonathan Carnahan was having an absolutely terrible night.

It had started out good, granted. There had been liquor. Plenty of it. And a beautiful gold-digging hussy. He loved beautiful gold-digging hussies.

Then, of course, there had been the little issue of his gambling debts coming back to haunt him. But Maddie had taken care of that, just as she always did. He'd thought his problems were over for the rest of the evening.

He and Patricia had gone upstairs and had a jolly good time. Then they'd gone for a bit of a walk around the premises… which had led them into the master quarters. Everything was going according to plan until those bloody maniacs with the red turban things came barging in.

Patricia had been ushered out the door – and promptly ran for it, he had no doubt. Who could blame her? It was certainly what he would have done. The scarf-wearing crazies had then plopped him down in a chair and commenced the threatening.

"We are looking for the Bracelet of Anubis," the old man with the goatee announced. He appeared to be in charge. Jonathan refrained from telling him that he looked very silly wearing a black evening suit with a big red turban. It was hardly the height of fashion.

"Oh? Good. Good for you. Good thing to have, the old Bracelet of Anubis," Jonathan babbled, although he had honestly no bloody idea what this man was talking about. What the bloody hell was the Bracelet of Anubis? And where the bloody hell was Maddie? He was in desperate need of a rescue here.

Jonathan could only hope to bide his time until she got up here… _if_ she got up here. He swallowed. That was not a pleasant thought.

"Where is it?"

"Ah, you're looking here, for the bracelet, I see. Well, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mr. O'Connell, you try my patience."

Mr. O'Connell? That wasn't his name! The very idea, being mistaken for that big oaf…

Ah. But in that case, they were threatening the wrong person. He was in the clear.

"Mr. O'Connell? Now, wait, hold on a minute, you've got the wrong…"

And that's when the knife ended up at his neck.

Jonathan swallowed.

"Ah! That bracelet! Now I remember! I lost it in a card game."

"For your sake, I hope not."

Great. Now the old loon was angry. Where the hell was Maddie when you really needed the girl? Just as Jonathan was wondering exactly how the hell he was supposed to get out of this mess, the man's eyes widened and he snatched the gold scepter that Jonathan had been holding right out of his hand. It was the last thing Jonathan had from his quest at Hamunaptra, and he'd been showing it off to Patricia.

"It can't be!" the crazy old man cried.

It can't be what, Jonathan wondered silently. It was just a gold stick, after all. More importantly, it was _his_ gold stick, and he wanted it back.

"Hello."

Everyone looked up at the greeting.

Jonathan's eyes widened. A very beautiful woman was walking across the room, holding a large, patterned basket. She was dressed in the very height of fashion: a tight black dress, a pillbox hat complete with veil, and a very plush, very expensive black feather boa. Her long, straight dark brown hair hung like a curtain down her back, swishing back and forth, and when her dark, piercing eyes met his, Jonathan couldn't help but be stunned almost breathless.

"Hello," he greeted her rather stupidly.

"Where is your wife?" she asked.

"My wife?" It was on the tip of his tongue to inform her that he didn't have a bloody wife, until he remembered he was supposed to be Rick. "Oh, you mean Evie. Well, I think she went off to Baden-Baden, or Tibet, or something. The girl's a free spirit."

He crossed his legs in an attempt at debonair. "Did I mention I was single now?"

The beautiful woman placed her basket on an end table and lifted off the top. As Jonathan sat watching - and still being held at knifepoint - the woman reached into her basket and pulled out a long, thin, black snake.

Oh bloody hell. Maybe it was a good thing Maddie hadn't shown up yet after all.

She approached him slowly, almost seductively, giving the snake a kiss on the lips and then cradling it carefully, almost lovingly, in her hands.

"Egyptian asps," she informed him. "Are quite poisonous."

Bugger all. Jonathan swallowed, preparing to spill the beans on the bracelet… completely imaginary, made up beans seeing as he still had no idea what these crazies were talking about.

Worst night ever.

* * *

The O'Connell mansion was like something out of a gothic novel, Nasira decided as she navigated the long upstairs halls, eyeing the cream colored wallpaper and the antique brass sconces. The whole house was richly decorated with expensive carpets and furniture, darkly lit in most spots, and full of things Evie and Rick must have stolen from Egyptian tombs. It didn't quite fit with her image of the O'Connell family – except for the artifacts, of course. Those fit perfectly. Other than that… well, the O'Connells didn't seem like the sort of people who would live in a mansion straight out of an Ann Radcliffe novel. Nasira had read many of Ann Radcliffe's novels, as well as many other novels, all of which Ardeth had brought home from Cairo for her at one point or another when she was younger. In those novels, there was always a certain sort of people who lived in drafty, dark old English manors, and the O'Connells were definitely not of that sort. They ought to live in… well… Nasira screwed up her face in thought, trying to decide exactly what sort of home people like Evelyn and Richard O'Connell belonged in.

She was soon sidetracked, however. Just as she passed one of the many closed doors along the hallway, she heard voices. One voice was stuttering and nervous, belonging to an educated English man. Nasira would have bet any money that the voice belonged to Jonathan Carnahan.

The other voices were low and threatening, belonging to another educated man – this one sounding of Arab descent – and a woman. Nasira strained her ears to catch the conversation and made out the word 'bracelet.'

Oh, dear.

Suddenly, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. Nasira whirled around to meet the approaching party, drawing her scimitar.

Rick O'Connell froze, hands up. "Hey," he snapped. "You can't threaten me, lady. Not in my own house."

Nasira breathed a sigh of relief at the friendly face. Well, maybe friendly was the wrong word. Rick actually didn't look even remotely friendly at the moment.

"Mr. O'Connell," she murmured. "I am sorry. You startled me."

"Let's hope so," he returned. "Now, who the hell are you and why are you in my house?"

She blinked. He didn't recognize her? Well, she supposed that wasn't too surprising. She must have changed over the past four years. Grown up a little. Not to mention, they hadn't spent too much time in one another's company when she'd last seen him.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," she said quickly. "I'm only here to help."

That was when he recognized her. Nasira saw his expression change from confused to comprehending. "Nasira Bay?"

She nodded. "It is me."

Rick's face did not instantly melt with relief or happiness. Instead, he seemed to grow even more furious. "Is your brother here?" he snapped.

Nasira nodded again, fixing her gaze on the floor. "Yes. Ardeth is here as well."

"Damn it," he swore, his fist going up to his mouth in vexation. "Are you kidding me?"

"Mr. O'Connell…"

"What is it this time?" he demanded. "Imhotep crawl out of his grave again? Maybe I'm just not quite understanding what it is your people do out in that desert, but I was under the impression that _you_ guys were supposed to take care of that, not me!"

Nasira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had learned from the short time she spent in Rick O'Connell's presence four years ago that although he was a good, brave man, he was also a man who needed someone to blame when things went wrong, no matter what the circumstances.

Not that he was entirely inaccurate when it came to the Creature, of course. She had to admit, with no small quantity of shame, that it _was_ the Med-jai's job to keep him in his tomb, and recently their success rate at this particular job was less than up to par…

"Yes, the Creature is afoot, yes, it is our job to take care of that, and no, I am not kidding you," she hissed. "But I am not here to seek your help, I am here to give you mine… and I'd like to inform you that your brother-in-law is in that bedroom right now being threatened by people who want the artifact you and your wife stole from a tomb in Thebes! Now, be quiet and help me save him so I can explain the situation!"

Rick blinked. "Whoa," he said. "People are threatening Jonathan?"

She nodded.

He sighed. "Just another night in merry old England." Then the warrior side of Rick O'Connell came out. His face hardened with grim acceptance, a mirror image of Ardeth's battle expression. "You stand by that door. I'm going around the corner and heading in the other entrance. Listen for my voice. I'm going to distract them. While I'm talking, try to slip in. If I don't see you right away, I'll assume the door is locked and try to get it open at some point. We clear?"

Nasira nodded. "Yes."

He ran around the corner and down the hall. Nasira stood at the door, listening for Rick's voice. He had better hurry, because suddenly, she distinctly heard Jonathan say, "I only told you so you wouldn't kill me…"

And Meela Nais' reply sounded a lot like, "When did we make that arrangement?"

* * *

After leaving Alex alone in the parlor with the Bracelet of Anubis – an action Madeline couldn't help but regret – Madeline had scurried down the hall towards her training room and swiped her half full drink off of Evie's antique end-table.

She glanced around her, anxious to dispose of the telltale drink. It would have been bad enough had Evie caught her marking up the furniture with her coaster-less glasses, but it would be even worse when Evie realized her drink was alcoholic. It had never been an issue before… Evie had disapproved of her drinking, as she did Jonathan's, but let it slide unless her drunken behavior caused problems for the rest of the family. But once Madeline had given it up, Evie had turned into a drill sergeant, sniffing every glass Madeline held in her hand, and reading her the riot act if she so much as had a glass of wine at dinner.

She was grateful for that. Still, she wasn't in the mood to be yelled at, not tonight, not when…

Madeline shook her head, pushing the thought of Ardeth out of her mind. Quickly, she dumped her Scotch into the potted plant beside the end table. Then she stared at the empty glass, trying to decide what to do with it. She had finally decided to sneak it back into the parlor and leave it in its proper spot on Jonathan's dry bar when she heard the crash.

It sounded like breaking glass, and it came from the front of the house. It was closer to the training room than the parlor, and she doubted that Evie and Alex had heard it.

The entire family was at home. There was no reason for anyone else to be arriving at the manor that night. Which meant they had an intruder on their hands.

Madeline did a quick mental inventory of her available weaponry. Her pistols were… on the chest of drawers in the entrance hall. Damn it.

Swords. She had plenty of those. Madeline left her glass on the end table – again – and raced inside the training room. Quickly, she grabbed two of her swords off the wall and then ducked back out into the hallway. Her pulse drumming in her ears, Madeline crept silently along the hallway, listening for an attack.

She reached the parlor and stopped, pressing herself against the wall. Evie was standing in front of Alex, holding out a sword – a sword she barely knew how to use. "Get out of my house," she ordered whoever stood in front of her.

Madeline felt her stomach flip-flop. "Whoa, Mum. Maybe not the best idea," Alex said, gripping the stone chest that held the bracelet tight against his chest.

"Alex, get back there!" Evie snapped.

Madeline crept into the room a little farther, still keeping out of sight. She saw a tall, dark skinned man, standing in front of Evie. He wore red robes and a matching turban, and there was a wicked looking sword swaddled to his waist.

Suddenly, a host of men in identical outfits marched out of the back hall and flanked him, the whole crowd standing threateningly in front of Madeline's sister-in-law and nephew.

"Definitely not the best idea," she heard Alex say. "I think it's time to call for Dad now."

That was her cue. She marched across the room in three long strides and stepped protectively in front of Evelyn.

"Call for Dad?" Madeline asked, leveling both her swords at the man in red. "You don't need Dad, Alex. You've got Aunt Maddie."

She smirked at the man on the other end of her weapons. "So… what priceless artifact are _you_ after?"

"He's after the bracelet," Evie murmured from behind her, still clutching her own sword.

The tall man snorted, looking scornfully down his nose at Madeline. "Aunt Maddie, is it? As in Madeline O'Connell?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I've wanted to meet you for a long time, Miss O'Connell," he continued, sneering.

"Really?" Madeline asked, pretending to be flattered. "And why is that?"

"So I can kill you slowly and painfully," the red-cloaked warrior replied. "Of course."

"Are you sure we shouldn't call for Dad?" Alex asked from behind his mother.

"Now I will kill all of you," the strange man went on, stepping forward threateningly. "And take the chest anyway."

"I think not."

The voice came from behind her. Madeline froze. She knew that voice, that deep musically accented voice. It rumbled all through her body.

"Ardeth," she heard Evie say, sounding as surprised as Madeline felt. "What are you doing here?"

She heard his step as he crossed the parlor and came to a stop beside her. Slowly, Madeline turned her head and stared at him. She felt her jaw drop. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye almost awkwardly, and then returned his gaze to the warrior in the red turban.

"Perhaps explanations are best kept for later," he said.

The warrior smirked. "Ardeth Bay."

Ardeth smirked back. When he spoke, Madeline heard a note of icy hatred in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. "Lock'nah."

Oh yeah. That bracelet was bad news, all right.

* * *


	4. Attack of the Red Scarves

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Thanks to Nelle07, Twimoonclipsedawn, Kassandra J, benzene, Pirate Hero, TheDevil'sVendetta, SandraSmit19, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, tigerlily 124, bringmetheangie, RitualKitten, WhiteInnocence, and gothicluver13 for all the reviews! Sorry this is kind of short, but when you find a good place to stop... well, you find a good place to stop. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4: Attack of the Red Scarves

Nasira stood in the upstairs hallway of the O'Connell manor, her ear pressed against the dark, smooth wood of the bedroom door. She gripped her scimitar tightly, holding the weapon down at her side, anxious to burst into the room. Rick wasn't moving fast enough. He wasn't going to get there in time. She was about to go in and rescue Jonathan without him. Really, where the hell was he? The other entrance to the bedroom couldn't be that far away. It was around the corner, not halfway around the damn world.

She heard the click of an opening door. "Hello," Rick's muffled voice traveled through the door. "Jonathan, I thought I said no more wild parties."

Jonathan laughed nervously. "Well, when you're popular."

Nasira took hold of the round, cool doorknob, turning it slowly and silently, and pushed the door open ever so slightly. She peeked inside the room. Meela Nais and Hafez were standing before Jonathan, who was sitting in an armchair. Behind him stood a man in a red turban holding a knife to his neck. Several more of the Red Scarves were stationed behind the chair. None of them were looking in her direction.

She opened the door a little more and slid silently into the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her. No one but Rick noticed her entrance, and he was far too smooth to give away her position.

"Look," Rick announced. "I'm sure my brother-in-law deserves whatever you people are about to do to him, but this is my house, and I have certain rules about snakes and dismemberment…"

Suddenly, Meela Nais (the woman in the black dress and feather wrap) threw the writhing black snake in her hand right at Rick's face.

Rick ducked to the side, his hands going up instinctively to protect his face. For one terrible moment, Nasira was certain that the snake – an asp, she was sure – had sank its fangs into Rick's face or neck, and the ex-legionnaire was done for. But Rick surprised her. He straightened up, gripping the snake tightly in his hands in such a way that it was impossible for the snake to bite him. Then, with a spare glance at Nasira that she immediately interpreted as a warning to step to the side – which she promptly did – he tossed the snake right back at the woman.

Meela Nais ducked. The snake sailed over her head and landed in the face of one of the men in the red turbans. He let loose a horrible cry as the snake bit him right under his eye.

Nasira raised her scimitar as the rest of the Red Scarves opened fire on Rick. She promptly sliced the asp in half – it had abandoned its victim writhing on the ground and was heading straight for her. Then she whirled around, sword flying, and cleaved through the neck of one of the gunmen.

He fell, his weapons tumbling to the ground. Jonathan ducked out of his armchair, snatching a gold scepter out of Hafez's hands, and raced out of the line of fire. Rick was on the other side of the room, miraculously catching the knives being thrown at him and tossing them back at his attackers.

One of the men realized that Rick and Jonathan had a third ally in the room and raced at Nasira, his own scimitar flying. She instantly raised her weapon and blocked his, knocking it to the side. The man clung tight to the hilt, narrowly avoiding being disarmed, and swung back at her head. Nasira ducked, swung at his abdomen, and nearly sliced him open, but he leapt back too quickly and dodged her blade. They parried and thrust, exchanging blows, and finally Nasira backed him into a wall, surprised him by thrusting her sword upward, and disarmed him. The man went wide-eyed for a brief second before Nasira drove her sword into his gut.

As her opponent fell to the ground gurgling, a warning shout rang out from Rick. Nasira turned to look just in time to see one of the Red Scarves whip out a machine gun and open fire.

Someone grabbed her wrist and yanked her into another room. She looked up to find Jonathan, strange gold scepter in hand, hauling her across the dark marble tile of the bathroom.

"Jonathan!" she hissed in annoyance. "What are you doing?"

"Saving you!" he retorted, sounding equally harassed. "Machine guns trump scimitars, you silly bint!"

With that, he tossed her into the bathtub… which was full to the brim with warm, sudsy water.

The water closed over her head, and she choked on it. The soap was irritating her still open eyes. Nasira surfaced, spitting out suds. "What in Allah's name are you doing?" she demanded angrily.

Jonathan leapt into the tub beside her and shoved her back under the water without further explanation.

Everything that happened next was muffled by the bathwater in her ears. Nasira dimly heard a door slam, and then a second volleying of rapid fire. Both she and Jonathan stayed in the safety of the thick marble tub until the firing of the machine guns died away and they heard Rick shout in anxiety, "_Jonathan!_ Nasira! _Jonathan!_"

Then both of them burst through the sudsy surface of the bathwater, gasping for air.

Rick, standing in the middle of the bullet riddled bathroom, stared at the two of them in shock and irritation. Suddenly, he grabbed Nasira by the arms, half lifting her out of the tub. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded. "Who are these people, and why are they shooting up my house?"

Nasira's answer was rushed and breathless and barely understandable. "They are called the Red Scarves and they're an enemy tribe of the Med-jai, sworn to unearth all that we protect and ultimately destroy the world for their own personal gain… and they want the Bracelet of Anubis."

Rick blinked. "That sounds bad."

Jonathan leapt out of the tub, splashing water on the floor. "Oh, good," he said, sighing in relief. "I was worried I got drunk one night and accidentally stole some lady's bracelet."

Rick released Nasira's arms and extended her a hand, helping her out of the marble tub. Water sloshed onto the marble tiles, dripping from her long black robes. Her robes were so weighted down by the excess water that Nasira felt as if the floor had turned to quicksand and was trying to drag her under. Mumbling several creative cusses under her breath, Nasira began attempting to wring the water from both her robes and her long black hair.

Suddenly, a third volley of gunfire exploded from the room next door, the bullets ripping through the wall and bouncing around the bathroom. "Time to go," Jonathan squeaked.

Rick looked all around the bathroom for an escape route, his eyes finally alighting on the large warped-glass window. He looked back at his two companions, his intent clear in his eyes.

Nasira raised an eyebrow at him, and then spared a glance at the window. "That is not a good idea," she informed him.

More gunfire erupted nearby, and the three of them had to duck to avoid their heads being turned to Swiss cheese. "Better than the alternative," Rick retorted.

Jonathan looked from the door to the window, and sighed. "Bloody hell."

The three of them raced towards the window and threw themselves through it, shattering the glass and hitting the large canopied cover just beneath it. They tumbled down the canopy and landed on the stone patio the cover was shading.

Shaking glass from their clothes, Rick, Jonathan, and Nasira struggled to their feet and glanced around the estate with wide, confused eyes. The O'Connells' driveway was crowded with fleeing men dressed in red.

Rick turned to Nasira, his eyes glinting dangerously. "All right," he said. "All that stuff you said back in the bathroom? How about you run that by me again?"

Nasira took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. This was her own fault. She had begged Ardeth to let her come here, after all.

She suddenly regretted that decision very much.

Suddenly, the machine gun went off again. All three of them instinctively ducked, glancing up at the shattered bathroom window in alarm. The gunman had broken into the bathroom and was now standing right where they'd just escaped, shooting at them.

"Hold that thought," Rick said ironically. She nodded. Then she, Rick, and Jonathan took off, vaulting over the brass patio railing and hitting the grass below. The gunman persisted, still shooting, and bullets ricocheted off the porch rail and the stone wall of the house as they raced through the shrubbery and around the corner of the manor, heading for the driveway.

It never seemed to matter where Nasira was. Egypt or England, she still ended up getting shot at.

* * *

Madeline stood in her brother and sister-in-law's elaborately decorated parlor, holding two swords in her hands and staring down a herd of bad guys in red turbans. Things just did not get worse than this.

Actually, they did, she corrected herself, and since this was her life, they were certainly going to. Behind her, Evie and Alex stood at the ready – one prepared to fight, the other to hide. At least, he better be ready to hide, or his ass was grass.

And as usual, she stood between her brother's family and certain death… with a tall, dark, and handsome Med-jai warrior at her side. Good to know some things never changed.

After greeting one another in an icy, threatening manner, Ardeth and this Lock'nah character had spent several seconds glowering at one another menacingly. Madeline had just begun to get annoyed by the ridiculousness of it all when Lock'nah let loose a sharp battle cry, unleashing his henchmen on Ardeth and the O'Connell family.

There was a metallic scraping sound as Ardeth drew his scimitar and blocked one of the swords aimed at his head. Madeline brought up her own swords in preparation for the onslaught. A few of the red robed warriors pushed past her towards Evie. And a whole bunch of them came right at Madeline.

She grabbed one man's sword between both of hers, yanking it from his grasp and tossing it across the room. The man reached for another weapon, but Madeline knocked his hand away with one sword and then sliced through his throat with the other. He toppled to the floor, blood dribbling down his neck.

Another man charged her from the left. Madeline spun on instinct, her sword going up to block his. They exchanged blows, moving across the parlor at a frantic pace. Her opponent managed to knock her left-hand sword from her grasp, sending it flying around the room. Madeline brought her other sword down on his back, slicing through his neck and shoulder.

He fell. She moved onto the next. As she clashed swords with her next opponent, she heard the clang of Evie and Ardeth's swords as they took on their own red-robed attackers. Stabbing her current opponent in the gut, Madeline glanced over at Evie and Alex – to find Evie kicking some serious ass.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"Whoa Mum," Alex asked. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Madeline's thoughts exactly.

"I have no idea!" Evie exclaimed, finishing off one of her opponents.

Madeline would have liked to continue watching her sister-in-law do some heavy damage with that sword she had no clue how to use, but the red turbaned men had other ideas. One of them came rushing at her, sword aimed for her neck. Madeline ducked, blocked, and attacked, forcing him backwards across the room.

This was getting ridiculous. It was like their attackers were clowns in a circus. They just kept filing out of that tiny car.

Madeline blocked one blow of the man's sword and then punched him in the face. He toppled backwards, tripped over an armchair, and hit the ground. She stabbed him in the chest and moved on.

One of the men had grabbed hold of the stone chest and was trying to wrestle it away from Alex. Madeline charged him next, tackling him into the nearby bookshelf. Both the man and her nephew let go of the chest. She grabbed the thief by the scruff of his neck and tossed him back in the direction he came, taking out one of the men Ardeth was currently engaged in fighting. Both men crumpled to the ground in a tangled heap.

Lock'nah, who up till now had been nothing more than a mere observer, suddenly joined in the fray. He charged Ardeth directly, seemingly unbothered by Madeline and Evie. The two locked swords.

"What's in the chest?" Ardeth bellowed.

"The Bracelet of Anubis!" Madeline's sister-in-law hollered back.

Ardeth's murderous expression turned to one of shock. Well, Madeline thought. At least that means something to somebody.

Lock'nah punched Ardeth in the face. Madeline moved to help, but one of the men she'd thrown to the floor got to his feet and attacked her. She met him with her sword, slashing through his face. Enraged by the smarting cut, the man whipped his own sword in her direction and they engaged in blows.

"They must not get the bracelet!" Ardeth shouted. Madeline looked up at the cry. "Get it and get out of here!"

The momentary distraction cost her. Her opponent nearly stuck his sword in her face. Madeline dodged the blade, getting the brunt of the hilt instead. She stumbled into the wall.

Her opponent ran at her. Madeline swung up her sword and met the man dead on, the tip of her blade puncturing the man's gut.

He fell to the side. She struggled to her feet. Evie was attempting to abscond with the chest. As Madeline watched, another man in red came tearing around the corner, punched her sister-in-law in the face, and tossed her over his shoulder. The chest fell from her hands.

"Mum!" Alex shouted.

"Evie!" Madeline hollered after them. She raced across the room, ignoring the man who snatched up the chest and ran with it. The stolen bracelet was no longer a priority in the light of her kidnapped sister-in-law.

She made it to the hall, grabbing Alex's shoulder and shoving him behind a statue. "You. Stay," she ordered.

"But that man took Mum…"

"I'm on it," Madeline cut him off. "Don't move."

Then she tore off down the hall.

Her thoughts were racing as she ran. Everything had just gone to hell. Her brother and his wife had found some wacko bracelet, a whole bunch of men in red turbans had just attacked the manor, her sister-in-law had been kidnapped, said wacko bracelet had been stolen, and her ex had just reappeared on her doorstep, right on time for the battle of the century.

Great.

She turned the corner, hitting the entrance hall, and stopped only long enough to snatch her pistols off the chest of drawers by the front door. Then she was off, out the door, and racing across the dark, dewy lawn.

Evie was no longer unconscious, and had started struggling against her red-robed captors. They forced her inside one of two shiny new automobiles parked in the long, circular driveway. Madeline stopped short, aimed, and opened fire.

The men ducked, hollering in alarm. Evie was forced inside the car anyway. One of the men forcing her inside received a bullet in his forehead and hit the ground. Another ducked just in time, a surefire chest wound becoming a shoulder shot. He crawled into the car. Madeline took aim at the tires. A bullet bounced off a hubcap and she swore, readjusting her aim. She hated wasting ammunition.

Then, suddenly, she felt a presence at her side. Ready to fire, she turned… just in time to see five dark knuckles flying towards her face. Madeline tried to duck, failed, and got the full force of the punch in the side of her head.

It felt like an explosion had gone off in her temple. Pain ripped through her skull and she toppled backwards, her knees going weak. Her assailant caught her around the waist, lifting her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She thought she heard her nephew's cry of alarm in the distance as she was hoisted from the ground. Then her vision faded to black, and she lost consciousness.

* * *


	5. War at the Museum

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Thanks to benzene, gothicluver13, tigerlily124, Nelle07, Padme 4000, pirate hero, Ravenclaw Samurai, SandraSmit19, and Hakujou Enputi-shigai for all the reviews!

* * *

Chapter 5: Rescue at the Museum

Alex O'Connell was not a happy eight-year-old boy.

In the course of the past twenty minutes or so, he had lost his mother, he had lost his favorite (albeit only) aunt, and he was wearing a large gold bracelet that would _not _come off his wrist.

It had seemed like a good idea when he'd put the bracelet on, but now he regretted it. What if he was stuck wearing this gaudy gold thing forever? The boys at school would mock him mercilessly for the rest of his life!

But for now the bracelet was the least of his troubles. Those men in the red hats had just driven away with both his mother and his aunt. He looked over at the tall, dark-skinned man in the long black dress standing next to him. A part of him wanted to know why he was wearing a dress, but he had more important questions at the moment.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

The man looked down at him. Ardeth, he remembered his mother calling him. Alex looked back up at Ardeth. He was very tall, almost as tall as Alex's dad. He was also very muscular and had wicked cool weapons. His wavy black hair came down to his shoulders and he had a neat little black beard and moustache. Alex bet he came from Egypt or somewhere exotic like that.

This Ardeth person also had tattoos on his tan face and wrists. He looked fierce, frightening even… but Alex wasn't afraid.

Ardeth looked at him with large, dark eyes. His eyes were kind and gentle. This man had tried to protect him and his family, and Alex knew he wouldn't hurt him.

The man took a deep breath. "We will find your mother and your aunt," he answered Alex's question. "But first, I will have to speak to your father."

"Well, I guess it's a lucky thing he's standing right over there then," Alex returned, gesturing at the large statue in the middle of the circular driveway. Crouched behind it were his father, his uncle, and a very pretty but odd-looking woman. She wore the same dress Ardeth did, and she also had the same tattoos on her face. Her shiny black hair spilled all the way down her back, stopping somewhere by her waist.

He frowned. Why exactly were Uncle Jon and that woman sopping wet?

Ardeth took off jogging in that direction. Alex ran along behind him. His father had turned around now and saw them approaching.

"Alex!" his dad called.

"Dad!" Alex shouted, picking up speed. He leapt at his father, who caught him with open arms and gave him a fierce protective hug. Alex instantly felt safer.

"Are you all right?" his father asked.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine."

His father put him back down on the ground and turned to Ardeth. Ardeth nodded at him. "O'Connell."

Ardeth winced, but did not look at all surprised, when Alex's father grabbed him by the front of his robes and slammed him into the statue. "What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted.

Before Ardeth could answer, Alex's father spoke again. "No, scratch that. I don't care. Who the hell were those guys and where are they taking my wife and my sister?"

"My friend," Ardeth said soothingly, not even angry about the slam into the statue. Alex was impressed. Ardeth reached into his robes and pulled out a weather-beaten photo, showing it to Alex's dad. "I am not sure. But wherever we find this man, Madeline and your wife will surely be."

Alex caught a glimpse of the photograph his father was squinting at and thought the man in the photo looked familiar. He snatched it right out of Ardeth's hand, surprising all four of the people around him.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, recognizing the man at once. "I know him! He's the curator of the British museum!"

"You are sure?" Ardeth demanded.

"You better believe him," Alex's father replied. "He spends more time there than he does at home."

They took off running towards the family car. "Ok," Alex's dad said. "You're here, bad guys are here, Evie and Madeline have been kidnapped… let me guess?"

"Yes," Ardeth replied to the unspoken question. "The Creature was once again removed from his grave."

Alex had never been so curious before in his life. His desperate need to know exactly what the Creature was was actually making him itch.

"I don't mean to point fingers," Uncle Jon spoke up. "But isn't it your job to make sure that doesn't happen?"

The pretty woman who looked like Ardeth rolled her eyes. "If I had a coin for every time I've heard that…"

"The woman that is with them," Ardeth explained quickly. "Meela Nais. She knows things that no other living person could possibly know. She knew exactly where the creature was buried. We were hoping she'd lead us to the bracelet. She obviously did. And now they have it."

"What?" the pretty woman exclaimed. "They took the bracelet as well?"

Alex thought now would be a good time to explain about his latest accessory. "I wouldn't get too nervous just yet," he spoke up, rolling up his jacket sleeve.

Everyone's eyes widened at the sight of the gold, scorpion-shaped bracelet that was clamped around his wrist. Ardeth grasped his wrist in his large hands. "Is that gold?" Uncle Jon asked.

"When I put it on, I saw the pyramids at Giza," Alex boasted. "And then whoosh! Straight across the desert to Karnack."

Ardeth looked him in the eye and said quite seriously, "By putting this on you have started a chain reaction that could bring about the next apocalypse."

Alex gasped. Bugger. He knew he should have listened to Aunt Maddie.

The pretty woman gently elbowed Ardeth in the side. "Don't scare the child," she whispered.

It was on the tip of Alex's tongue to protest that he was _not_ a child, but his father cut him off. "You," he said to Ardeth. "Lighten up. You." He turned his accusing finger on Alex. "Big trouble. You." He pointed at Jonathan and the woman. "Get in the car."

Mere moments later, Alex found himself squished into the backseat of his father's car next to his uncle, who was sitting between him and the woman who'd called him a child. Ardeth and Alex's father were up front, his dad at the wheel.

"I am sorry if I alarmed your son," Ardeth was saying. "But you must understand. Now that the bracelet is on his wrist, we have only seven days until the Scorpion King awakens."

"We?" his father asked. "What we?"

"Well, you only stole the bracelet from a tomb no one said you could enter," the woman beside Uncle Jon pointed out. "And then took it home to England. And allowed it to fall into your son's hands, who then put the bracelet on and started the resurrection. So, I suppose you are right." Her tone was becoming quite sarcastic. "There is no 'we' in this at all. You are completely free from responsibility."

"Would you like to walk to the museum, Nasira?" Alex's father bit back.

"That is enough," Ardeth intervened. "This is serious. If the Scorpion King is not killed, he will raise the army of Anubis."

"I take it that's not a good thing," Uncle Jon spoke up.

"Oh, he'll wipe out the world," his father replied.

"Ah," Uncle Jon returned dryly. "The old wipe-out-the-world ploy."

Alex was starting to get very nervous. This sounded pretty serious. It was a lot worse than stealing his teacher's wig and running it up the flagpole. He was going to be grounded for at least a month.

"Whoever can kill the Scorpion King takes control of his army," Ardeth explained further. "And he can either send it back to the underworld or use it to destroy mankind and take over the world."

"So that's why they dug up Imhotep," Alex's father mused. "Because he's the only one tough enough to take on the Scorpion King."

"That is their plan."

"And it's a dangerous one," Nasira went on. "Expecting Imhotep to cooperate with them once all is said and done… it is like trying to befriend an asp. No matter how close you think you are, there is always the chance he will turn on you."

"Well, points for bravado, then," Uncle Jon said. "But a deduction for sheer stupidity."

"It is most likely why they have taken Evie and Madeline," Nasira elaborated. "Offering up two of the people responsible for stopping him the last time he was resurrected whom he can do with as he pleases… it is a peace offering. A gift to seal their alliance."

"Great," Alex's father grumbled. "My wife and my sister are a present for an evil, psychotic undead mummy intent on ruling the world. My life just keeps getting better and better."

They lapsed into silence as they drew nearer to the museum. Finally, unable to withstand his burning curiosity any longer, Alex spoke up: "I have a question."

"Yes, Alex?" his father replied.

"Is anyone going to tell me who the bloody hell Imhotep is?"

* * *

Madeline blinked awake, her head aching and her vision blurry.

She was stretched out on a hard surface covered in scratchy carpeting. Forcing her eyes open, Madeline looked all around her, trying to figure out where the hell she was.

Several dark people-like shapes hovered over her, talking and laughing loudly. It was the last thing her aching head needed at the moment. Lying still and holding her skull, Madeline blinked several more times until her vision finally came into focus.

She was lying on the floor off a large car. Several men in red turbans were seated all around her. Evie was propped up against the window behind the driver, out cold. Lock'nah sat beside her, keeping a close watch out the rear window, his fingers resting on the hilt of his sword.

There was a faint odor in the car that smelled vaguely like chloroform. She assumed they had used it on Evie when she'd woken up and stopped cooperating. She sure was a pistol, Madeline's sister-in-law.

The car rolled to a stop. The driver shut down the ignition. Madeline considered her options. Her head was killing her. Whether or not she could stand remained an untested theory. But she wasn't tied up, which was a plus.

Evie, however, was unconscious, and even if Madeline was capable of escape, she didn't want to leave her sister-in-law behind.

Shit. This wasn't good.

The other car rolled up alongside the one Madeline was inside. A woman dressed all in black and an older, bearded man wearing a black suit and a red turban climbed out of the other car. Madeline's eyes went wide, recognizing him at once as her boss at the British Museum. She couldn't believe it. Curator Hafez had always been an odd man, and he had never been the warm, friendly employer that Ajwad Kadar, the now dead curator of the Cairo Museum had been. But she would have never suspected him of this.

Mr. Hafez held the stone chest that contained the Bracelet of Anubis out in front of him as though it were sacred. He and the woman marched towards the large, hulking building they'd parked in front of. Madeline squinted, trying to make out what building it was, but the rain splattered windows made it difficult to see.

One of the red-robed men from the other car opened the door Evie was propped up against. She tilted sideways into his chest. The man lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

Then the men seated around Madeline started filing out of the car. Lock'nah stepped over her and exited the vehicle as well. Once outside he turned around, grabbed her by the waist, and dragged her out onto the pavement.

She fell onto the street, wincing with pain. Lock'nah grabbed her by the hair, which had fallen out of its ponytail, and jerked her up into a sitting position. Then he crushed her bicep in a painfully tight grip and yanked her onto her feet. Madeline stumbled into the open car door, and Lock'nah pinned her there.

His dark eyes looked her up and down, examining every inch of her, finally settling on her face, where he looked her right in the eye. He released her, shoving her back up against the car door. "Tie her up," he ordered the two men beside him. "And remember, she is _my_ prisoner, not Miss Nais's."

They nodded obediently. Madeline frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Lock'nah whirled away from her, his robes billowing behind him, and started to follow the rest of the group inside the building.

She took in her surroundings. They were outside the British Museum.

The men grabbed hold of her. Madeline struggled briefly before one of them hit her in the head. She was stunned long enough for them to bind her hands and feet. Then one of them threw her over his shoulder and carried her off towards the museum.

Great, Madeline thought drowsily as they carted her up the grand front steps. It looked like Lock'nah had meant every word he'd spoken back at the manor. He had finally met her, and now he was planning on killing her slowly and painfully… after he finished whatever crazy scheme he and her boss – and whoever this Miss Nais was – had cooked up.

What had she done to deserve this? She had never even heard of this Lock'nah guy before in her life. There was no reason why he would want to kill her slowly and painfully… right? She'd never done a damn thing to him… at least, not that she knew of. There was the fleeting notion that he had somehow been caught up in the scandal with her and the Necklace of Nitocris, but she quickly dismissed that idea. No, she decided. Whoever he and these guys in the red turbans were, she had a feeling their motives ran much deeper than Berkley family obligation.

They had entered the museum. Madeline tried to be patient as they filed down the long, twisty hallways, finally stopping at the administration offices. The man carrying her tossed her down on the floor, and she just barely missed hitting the corner of the large, long oak counter right before the curator's door.

She was at her own office. Irony at its worst. However, that did present her with an advantage. They were on her turf now.

Most of the men kept marching down the hall, heading deeper into the museum and taking both the chest and Evie with them. Among them were the strange woman in black and Mr. Hafez. Lock'nah stopped to converse with the two men who'd been appointed the task of guarding her.

They talked in low voices for a few moments. Then, before taking off after the rest of the congregation, Lock'nah stepped directly in front of her and knelt down so their eyes met. A small, smug smirk formed on his face. "I am going to greatly enjoy killing you, Miss O'Connell," he announced.

"Funny," she retorted, smirking back. "I was just going to say the same thing to you."

His smirk grew wider. Then he twisted his hand in her hair again – really, what was this guy's thing with her hair? – and lifted her up towards his face. His hot breath hit her ear and an unpleasant shiver ran down her back. "I have a long withstanding grudge against Ardeth Bay," he informed her. "And the perfect way to satisfy that grudge has just been dropped quite unexpectedly into my lap."

The hand not tangled in her hair rested heavily on the side of her neck. Madeline squirmed uncomfortably. She didn't care for this at all. The man in front of her was strong and dangerous, and she was tied up tightly, still rather weak from the blow to her head. Suddenly, Madeline became all too aware of her own vulnerability.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face when I show him your battered and broken body," he said, his lips directly against her ear. She swallowed involuntarily, her throat constricting with repulsion. Then Lock'nah let her go, throwing her against the circulation desk.

He strode off down the hallway after his comrades, laughing. Madeline shivered, struggling back into a sitting position.

All right, creepy bad guy. If that's the way you want it…

She surveyed her surroundings, guards included. They were standing at attention, not really looking at her. She supposed they thought since she was all tied up and helpless, they didn't need to keep all that close a watch on her.

If Lock'nah thought that a few ropes and two inept henchmen were going to be enough to keep her prisoner here… well, he obviously didn't know much about the O'Connells.

Madeline squirmed backwards as silently as possible. The two men standing guard didn't seem to notice. She rolled her eyes. Not that she was complaining – stupid henchmen were a lot easier to kill and escape from – but seriously, she was starting to think they needed better bad guys. Note to self: if she ever took over the world, she was going to invest in some quality henchmen.

On the shelf under the circulation desktop was a small bell. Madeline struggled around the corner of the desk, feeling like some sort of gigantic caterpillar. She looked over at the two guards again, hoping they hadn't noticed her migration.

They hadn't. Typical.

She grabbed hold of the edge of the circulation desk and pulled herself up on her knees. For a moment, she stayed still, trying to maintain her balance. When she was reasonably sure she wasn't going to topple over, she let go of the desk and reached for the top shelf and the bell she knew was under there.

Her fingers brushed something round and cool. Wincing as she grasped the bottom of the bell – please no sound, please no sound – she lifted it off the shelf and gripped it as securely and silently as possible. Then she let herself fall back onto her ass and squirmed away from the desk once again.

Cautiously, she lifted her bond arms over her head and threw the bell across the circulation space.

There was a ding and a clatter as it hit the linoleum on the other side of the room. Even the two idiots Lock'nah had assigned to guard her heard that. They argued amongst themselves for a moment, and then one of them ran off to investigate.

Perfect. Madeline squirmed back towards her own little desk space behind the counter. The remaining guard was looking every which way, searching for intruders, and neglecting to watch the one thing he should be watching – her. Madeline sighed as she reached her desk and pulled herself on her knees. She wanted to escape, sure, but… where was the challenge? These two were cheapening her victory with their stupidity.

She pulled her letter opener off her desk and then sat back on the ground. Quickly, she sawed through her bonds. Once free, she leapt to her feet and raced towards the guard, the letter opener still in hand. He spun, hearing her footsteps, and met the tip of the letter opener with his Adam's apple.

Gurgling, the henchman fell to the ground. Madeline stole a pistol from his belt and pulled his machine gun from his back. Then she tried to make a run for it.

Too late. The other guard had returned from his investigation on the opposite end of the room and let loose an angry cry, charging straight for her. Madeline took her stolen pistol, aimed, and burned a bullet through his forehead.

Both henchmen dead, Madeline tucked the pistol and the letter opener into the belt around the waist of her dress and then raced down the hall, the machine gun gripped tightly in her hands. She was free. Now all she had to do was save Evie.

* * *

Rick's car tore into the museum parking lot. He threw the vehicle into park and then spun around to address the passengers in his backseat.

"All right, Alex," he said quite seriously. "I have a very important job for you. I want you to stay here and protect the car."

"I can do that!" Jonathan immediately volunteered.

"Protect the car?" Alex repeated, completely unimpressed. "Dad, I might be eight, but I'm not stupid."

"I know," Rick replied, ruffling his son's hair.

"Dad!"

"If you see anyone run out screaming," Jonathan informed his nephew bitterly. "It's just me."

"Maybe you should stay here and watch him," Rick said.

"Yes, now you're talking," Jonathan replied.

Nasira climbed out of Rick's car, rolling her eyes. She had just started to dry out from Jonathan's little rescue attempt, and now it had started to rain. Thunder and lightening rumbled and flashed through the stormy sky.

She sighed. There was something different about all these people, much different than she remembered them from four years ago. Rick was still fierce and overprotective of his loved ones, but he wasn't the determined warrior she remembered. Was the ex-legionnaire so out of practice? He was more a reluctant hero than anything, and he wasn't a very good hero at that. If she was being honest, she recalled her brother describing him as such after Hamunaptra: the reluctant hero. Maybe once she would have found it romantic. Now, she was unimpressed with his reluctance. His little outbursts on the drive to the museum had painted him a selfish, belligerent man, and she wasn't sure she could stand much more of his whining.

She hadn't seen Evie yet, and so she wasn't sure if the archeologist was still the rather motherly but brilliant scholar she'd been the first time Nasira had met her. Evie had always been impulsive, she knew. It had been her recklessness that had unleashed the Creature the first time around. Still, if her husband had changed (even if it was not for the better), shouldn't she have changed as well in the time passed? Had she learned nothing from the first near apocalypse at Hamunaptra, and the almost-sacrificing of her sister-in-law to Nitocris?

Apparently not, since she was still robbing tombs.

And Jonathan. Nasira remembered him as the odd but funny Englishman with very debonair manners that tended to complain but was surprisingly hell in a fight. When it was time to get serious and stand up for what was right, he never backed down. He'd gone to great lengths to rescue Madeline when she and Ardeth had been kidnapped by the Berkleys. And here he was, opting to cower in the car rather than rush the museum and save his sister and best friend?

She hated to think how Madeline might have changed in the past four years.

Maybe it wasn't them, Nasira reasoned silently, following her older brother and Rick around the back bumper of the vehicle. Maybe it was her. Perhaps she had changed. Perhaps she viewed the world differently.

She loved being a soldier, but she couldn't deny it had taken a toll on her. She liked to think she was the same person, but deep down she knew there were changes. Although still the warmer and friendlier of her siblings, she had become much colder and more suspicious since her induction into the Med-jai armies. She had become much more defensive and protective of her people and their treasures. Once upon a time, archeologists were misguided people to be reasoned with. Now, they were trouble-making nuisances, intent on destroying what she had chosen to protect. And, as much as it hurt to admit, there were times when she'd rather kill them than reason with them; eliminate them so they would cause no more problems.

It was frightening, sometimes, when Nasira stopped to think about what she was becoming. She feared one day she would wake up and realize she had turned into Yasir.

She stood with Rick and Ardeth at the back of Rick's car. He had opened the boot, and was rifling through his impressive weapons display. She saw two shotguns and one Thompson machine gun.

"You want the shotgun?" Rick asked Ardeth.

"I prefer the Thompson," Ardeth replied.

Rick handed it over. Then he tossed Nasira the second shot gun. She frowned at it, weighing it in her hands. Ardeth was not the only Bay who preferred the Thompson.

She set about loading her weapon. Distracted as she was, she still did not miss her brother's next words.

"If I were to say to you, I am a stranger traveling from the East, seeking that which is lost…"

Nasira lifted her head, eyes wide. What was Ardeth doing?

"… then I would reply, I am a stranger traveling from the West, it is I whom you seek," Rick replied, his face scrunched up in incredulity. Nasira was sure her expression matched his. "How do you…"

"Then it is true," Ardeth interrupted him. "You wear the sacred mark."

Nasira felt the bottom drop out of her gut. Quickly, she pressed herself into her brother's side, determined to see if he was right. He was. There, tattooed on Rick's wrist, was the sacred mark of the Med-jai.

"That?" Rick asked. "Nah, that got slapped on me at an orphanage in Cairo…"

"That mark," Ardeth intoned. "Means you are a warrior for the gods. A Med-jai."

Rick snorted, unimpressed. "I suppose that makes my silly, socially awkward little sister a Med-jai too."

Ardeth blinked, taken aback. "Why would it?"

"Does she too wear that mark?" Nasira demanded, suddenly even more intrigued. The possibility that not just one O'Connell, but two O'Connells might be Med-jai…

Rick shrugged, obviously getting uncomfortable. "Yeah. We were in the same orphanage; we got them at the same time…"

"Then you are both Med-jai," Nasira murmured. "Both O'Connells, meant to fight and protect in the name of the gods." She shook her head. "I can't say I am completely surprised."

"No," Rick said, shaking his head as well – just much harder. "I don't buy it."

"There is nothing to buy," Ardeth returned. "You wear the mark. It means what it means."

"Sorry," Rick retorted. "You've got the wrong guy."

He finished loading his weapons, and then slammed his trunk shut. "Now, can we go get my wife and sister, _please_?" he demanded, marching off towards the museum.

Nasira followed a few paces behind, her step in line with her brother's. Ardeth was frowning at Rick's back. "He will never believe, Ardeth," she said to him. "Don't worry over it."

"How can I not?" Ardeth returned. "He is meant to do what we do, protect what we protect, and yet he refuses."

"He will always refuse," Nasira replied. "He will always be the _reluctant_ hero. O'Connell was not raised in our tradition. He cares about few things beyond his family sphere. He is selfish."

Ardeth blinked, sparing her a glance out the corner of his eye. "What has gotten into you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "These people are not the people I remember," she said simply. "I find myself getting… frustrated."

"People change."

"But they are meant to change for the better."

They lapsed into silence as they entered the museum. Walking softly on the linoleum floor and gripping their guns tight, Ardeth whispered to her, "But there may be hope. He knows the Med-jai word, Nasira. If…"

Suddenly, he frowned. "Unless Madeline…"

Nasira frowned too. "Unless Madeline what?"

Ardeth looked mildly guilty and would not meet her eyes. "Ardeth, you did not!" she hissed.

"It was back during the trouble with the Berkley family," Ardeth replied, as though that excused him. Nasira disagreed. "She worked with Ajwad, and I had just given him the necklace. I was worried he would need her assistance, and I wanted to make sure he would trust her. Ajwad was always paranoid…"

"Still," Nasira said sternly. "You violated a code."

"Apparently not," Ardeth returned. "Apparently Madeline is as much Med-jai as O'Connell…"

"More so, I'd wager," Nasira cut in dryly.

"Give him time," Ardeth murmured. "Reluctance is rather the O'Connell way."

She heard it. Right there, in his voice. The hurt, the heartbreak. Her friend had done that to him. Madeline had hurt her brother.

Which she had always known. But things had felt so different since she had come to England, and she was sure they would only get more different as time progressed…

Perhaps this had not been such a good idea.

"It is odd," Ardeth murmured. "If Madeline did not tell O'Connell of the word, then he must have always known it somehow. If she too bears the mark, why would she not know the word?"

"I don't know."

"And why would I have not seen the mark?"

"Perhaps it is not on her wrist."

"Yes, perhaps, but…"

Ardeth trailed off, shutting his mouth abruptly. She swore, despite being in the dark, she saw him blushing.

Nasira bit her lip and looked away. "Perhaps you were not paying good enough attention," was all she said.

He didn't press that subject any further either.

They were approaching the back of the museum now. As they progressed further into the building, they could hear a low chanting coming from up ahead. They passed mummies locked in cases and ancient sarcophaguses. Nasira took in everything, her eyes roving over the rooms and the halls and all their artifacts with displeasure. She surprised herself. It was times like these when she knew she was related to Yasir.

Ardeth looked more watchful than displeased, but she knew he too was not happy about the number of Egyptian things set up in the museum. She could tell by the way his eyes would linger too long on an object, the way he tightened his grip on the gun. But he was more concerned with protecting what was dangerous. What lay before her was not very dangerous at all.

The chanting was growing louder now. Without meaning to, Nasira quickened her step. Suddenly, the mummy in the glass case beside her let loose a loud roar, trying to force its centuries old limbs back into activity.

Nasira let out a soft shriek of surprise. Her brother yanked her away from the case as the mummy crashed through the glass, moaning and scratching. She and Ardeth backed away from the newly risen pharaoh or nobleman, only to hear the scrape of stone on stone coming from the sarcophagus behind them.

They whirled around just as the stone lid fell to the tiled floor with a loud crash, and another mummy sat up out of its final resting place.

All around them, the mummies came to life in their display cases, crawling out of their sarcophaguses. Nasira, Ardeth, and Rick came together in the center of the room, clutching their weapons and taking in the scene around them.

"They have begun the resurrection," Nasira murmured, realizing at once the meaning of the awakening dead. "The Creature is being awakened."

"No shit, Sherlock," Rick snapped, turning the corner and leading the way towards the sound of the ominous chanting.

They reached the back of the museum at last, finding themselves on a balcony-like hallway overlooking the back shipping room. Sarcophaguses, urns, and other artifacts were scattered about the large space. So were countless wooden crates. In the middle of it all was a large circle of Red Scarves, bowing and scraping and paying their respects to a crystallized body. Within the crystal lay the Creature. Beside the crystal was Evelyn O'Connell, laying on a wooden board, her wrists and ankles bound together and her dark green eyes wide with terror.

An older man in a business suit, but still wearing the customary red turban of the Red Scarves, was reading from the Book of the Dead, his voice ringing out over the ominous low-pitched chants of the congregation. Lock'nah stood behind him, glowering.

Her blood boiled at the sight of him. Murderous traitor, who had defiled all they stood for, killed her parents…

Meela Nais, she noticed, was nowhere to be seen. Nasira didn't much care – she only hoped whatever the woman was up to in her absence wasn't something she needed to be worried about.

Madeline O'Connell was also missing from the scene – and that detail Nasira cared very much about. What had happened to her friend and pen pal of the past four years?

As they watched, the Creature, struggling within his amber prison, suddenly awoke, crashing through the crystal. The amber shattered and he burst forth, rotting and decayed, but very much alive.

The chanting stopped, but the chanters remained kneeling. The man in the suit fell to his knees as well.

"What year is it?" the Creature demanded in the language of the pharaohs.

"My lord," the older man replied in the same tongue. "It is the year of the Scorpion."

This information interested the creature. "Truly?"

At the man in the suit's affirmation, the Creature began to laugh.

Then, suddenly, from the back of the room approached Meela Nais. The Creature's eyes fell on her, and he looked her up and down, pleased by what he saw.

Nasira was the first to admit that Meela Nais was a beautiful woman. An evil, ambitious, deceitful, and cruel woman, but a beautiful one as well. Still, the Creature's reaction to her was unexpected. It was not for nothing that he had become what he was. He loved Anck-su-namun, and no other woman would ever do.

"Do not be frightened," the man in the suit told her.

"I am not afraid," Meela returned. Then, she switched to the language of the pharaohs as well. "I am Anck-su-namun, reincarnated."

Nasira exchanged a look with her brother. His eyes reflected her thoughts. This could not be good.

"You know," Rick said suddenly. "A couple of years ago, this would have seemed really strange to me."

Then, with a parting clap to Ardeth's shoulder, he snuck off towards the stairs.

Nasira and Ardeth took their positions, concealed behind two tall stone pillars of the balcony. "I do not see Madeline," Nasira whispered.

Ardeth nodded, his eyes trained on the floor below. "Where do you think she is?" Nasira asked. "Evie has been offered to the Creature just as we thought she would be, but if Madeline is not here…"

"Madeline was not taken as a peace offering," Ardeth spat. "She was taken for something quite the opposite."

Nasira frowned. "I don't understand."

"Think," Ardeth retorted. "I am surprised you did not make the connection at once. We have kept close tabs on our enemies the Red Scarves for the past ten years. You think they have not done the same?"

"But…"

"Somehow, Lock'nah found out about Madeline. About…" Ardeth stopped, apparently unable to finish the sentence.

He didn't need to. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place for Nasira. "About what happened between you and her," she finished.

He nodded. "And now, he has taken her for further vengeance on me."

There was more than concern in his eyes. Nasira saw guilt there as well. "It is not your fault," she informed him sternly.

"Then whose fault is it?" he countered.

Nasira shrugged. "Have you tried blaming Lock'nah?" she returned, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Ardeth shook his head. "If it had not been for me…"

"Stop it," she interrupted. "You have too much to worry about already without also laying every single thing that goes wrong at your door."

Ardeth did not reply. His jaw tightened. Nasira rolled her eyes, knowing that nothing she'd said had made even a tiny dent in her brother's guilt and self-criticism. No matter how bad things got for him, he always had to make them worse.

They stood silently, watching the scene below. Nasira nearly cried out when she realized that while she and Ardeth had been talking, the Red Scarves had been preparing to throw Evie into a raging fire at the side of the room. The archeologist screamed.

But before Nasira had time to panic, Rick O'Connell burst through the flames – or leapt over them, she supposed was more accurate – and landed on the wooden board holding up his wife.

Rick slung Evie over his shoulder and ran for cover. Nasira and Ardeth opened fire. The men below scrambled for their own firearms and began shooting back.

Nasira couldn't help the small smile on her face as all out war broke out in the British Museum. As dire as the circumstances were, she couldn't help enjoying the excitement. She always did.

* * *


	6. Retreat

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion picture _The Mummy_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Thanks to kaytieorndorff, zentry, Ravenclaw Samurai, winged-karma, benzene, Nelle07,YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko, pirate hero, tigerlily124, bringmetheangie, casey21791, Padme4000, gothicluver13, IllinoisRose, Nikki Morgan, and Hakujou Enputi-shigai for all the reviews!

* * *

Chapter 6: Retreat

Madeline crept down the cavernous museum hall, clutching her stolen machine gun to her chest. Her stupid high heels were making an annoying clacking sound against the linoleum that echoed throughout the hallway, threatening to give her away.

Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it – she doubted anyone was paying attention to her clacking high heels at the moment, because the sound of rapid fire coming from the loading dock was more than enough to drown out her approach.

She increased her pace, racing down the hall, and finally reached the back of the museum, where she found full blown war.

The back storeroom was littered with men in red turbans. They were shooting at two black robed people on the balcony-like hall that Madeline was standing in. Below, Rick and Evie were trying to shoot their way out of the storeroom.

Lock'nah, Mr. Hafez, and Miss Nais were all down there – the latter of which was firing a very powerful machine gun. Madeline was rather impressed. Too bad the woman was on the wrong side.

She ducked behind one of the pillars and took another look at the scene below. There, hollering in ancient Egyptian, was a tall, decayed, surreal looking mummy.

Shit. That was freaking Imhotep.

Madeline raced towards the black robed figures, diving behind the same wide pillar as the one nearest to her. The figure looked up, startled, and Madeline's jaw dropped in shock when she took in the other young woman's face.

"Madeline!" Nasira Bay exclaimed, her expression mirroring the shocked look on Madeline's face. "We were coming to rescue you!"

"Thanks," Madeline replied. She grinned at her friend. "What are you doing here, Nasira? I had no idea…"

"I came with Ardeth," she informed her. "To get the Bracelet and warn you and your family about Meela Nais and Lock'nah… well, you undoubtedly know what I am speaking of."

"Not really," Madeline returned. "But you can fill me in later."

Nasira nodded, smiling happily. "We had best get back to shooting. I will hug you when this is over, yes?"

Madeline shrugged. "If you gotta…"

Then the two of them ducked back around their respective corners of their pillar and opened fire once again.

Madeline shot at the men below, trying her best to take some out. She frowned as she shot, gripping the machine gun tightly, and cussing under her breath. She hated machine guns.

Out of ammo, she ducked back around the corner to reload. Nasira did the same.

"I hate these stupid things!" Madeline announced in aggravation as she loaded her weapon. "I have no control over the freaking bullets! It's so annoying!"

"At least you are doing some damage," Nasira returned, also reloading. Madeline noticed for the first time that Nasira was using Rick's shotgun. "I hate _this_ thing! It requires far too much effort to kill something!"

They paused, staring at one another. Madeline raised her eyebrow. Nasira looked from Madeline, to the machine gun, to the shotgun, and then back at Madeline again.

With lightening speed, the two women switched weapons and finished the loading and cocking process. "Thank you," Madeline said.

"No, thank _you_."

They began shooting at the men below once more. After several volleys, Rick began racing up the stairs, Evie in tow. Ardeth – the black robed figure behind the other pillar – called to his younger sister, "Now, Nasira! We are retreating!"

"Coming!" Nasira hollered back. "Madeline…"

"Yes, let's go," Madeline cut her off. "Please."

The two of them raced after Ardeth, still shooting at the men below. Rick and Evie were hauling ass up the staircase. As they met up at the top of the steps, she heard her older brother groan.

"Not these guys again!" he exclaimed.

Madeline followed her brother's gaze. Imhotep had lifted the lid off one of his urns and now several mummies of the long dead, original protectors of Hamunaptra had swirled out of dust and into life.

Imhotep roared an order that Madeline was sure translated to "Kill them!"

"I don't have time for this right now!" Rick thundered. "I still have a little sister to save!"

"Hi, Rick," Madeline put in.

Both Evie and Ardeth looked up at her in shock. "Hey, Maddie," Rick replied. Then he frowned, suddenly realizing what had just happened, and gave her a shocked look of his own. "Maddie?"

"As far as I know," Madeline returned.

Rick stared a brief moment longer and then shrugged. "Guess I can cross that off the to-do list. Run!"

The five of them tore off down the hall, rushing for the exit. Madeline felt the adrenaline turn her stomach, gripping Rick's shotgun to her chest. The mummified warriors were getting closer. She could hear their echoing roars as they followed their five intended victims down the museum hallways.

They burst through the exit doors and raced for Rick's car. Madeline ran as fast as her stupid shoes would allow. From behind her, she could still hear Imhotep's servants and their echoing and unearthly roars. Evie attempted rather stupidly to drag a bench in front of the exit, but Rick quickly put a stop to that notion and yanked her away, informing his wife that "these guys don't use doors."

The five of them kept running across the parking lot, nearing the safety of Rick's car. Rick's very empty car, Madeline noticed. She had just begun to hope that Jonathan and Alex hadn't come along on this rescue mission when she heard Rick exclaim, "Where the hell is Jonathan?"

Madeline glanced around the car, still seeing nobody besides the five of them. Great. Just fantastic. Where the hell was Jonathan, indeed?

That's when a huge, red, double-decker bus swerved around a corner and tore into the parking lot, horn blaring.

"Alex!" Evie cried out, racing for the bus doors.

Madeline blinked. Sure enough, both Jonathan and her nephew were on board the double-decker bus. In fact, Jonathan was behind the wheel of said bus.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. They were as good as dead.

"What's the matter with my car?" Rick demanded.

"Well, I was forced to find alternative means of transportation," Jonathan explained – managing somehow, of course, to not really explain anything at all.

"A double-decker bus?" Rick exploded.

"It was his idea!" Jonathan defended himself, pointing at his nephew.

"Was not!" Alex protested.

Madeline rolled her eyes, and raced off after Ardeth and Nasira, who were already boarding the bus. She leapt up into the vehicle directly behind them. Rick stayed behind a moment to continue yelling at Jonathan before the anxiety over the mummified warriors on their tail kicked in, and he too got on board.

Evie stood at the front of the bus, clutching her son to her, as Jonathan put the vehicle in gear and tore off down the street. Madeline tumbled into a seat as Jonathan made a wild turn. Rolling her eyes at her friend's nonexistent driving abilities, she settled into the seat and started reloading her shotgun.

Rick, leaning in the door, began reloading as well. Ardeth stood near her brother, clutching his Thompson, while Nasira half leaned, half sat in a seat right behind Rick, loading her own machine gun with her remaining bullets.

"No!" Rick suddenly shouted. "Not my car!"

The shout could only mean the mummies had left the museum. Madeline leapt to her feet, clutching her newly loaded shotgun, and ran over to her brother's side. Through the vehicle's rear window, she could see four mummies racing after the huge red bus, leaving behind the crumpled remains of Rick's car.

"Oh, I hate mummies," her brother growled.

"Happy to see me now?" Ardeth asked from behind them.

"Just like old times," Rick returned sarcastically. He looked over at Madeline. "You and me, up top."

Madeline nodded. "After you, big brother."

Rick raced up the steps to the top level of the bus, and Madeline followed. Up top, Rick yanked open the long back window and settled down into the corner farthest from the stairs. Madeline took the other, aiming her shotgun out the back of the bus. "Remind me to never go to Egypt again," her brother announced, pointing his weapon at the street in anticipation of their pursuers. "I'm not robbing any more tombs, and I'm definitely not bringing back any more cursed jewelry!"

"I think it's a little late for that," Madeline informed him.

"Evie can have a dream about a purple rhinoceros eating the pyramids of Giza for all I care," Rick raved on. "I'm staying put in my big, comfy house, right here in London! No more mummies!"

"Sure," Madeline replied ironically. "I believe that."

"Shut up."

Madeline would have made another sarcastic retort, but suddenly Imhotep's four warriors came running around the street corner and made a beeline for their getaway car.

Both Madeline and her brother aimed and opened fire. They soon found that their guns weren't going to be much help. Rick hit one mummy in the leg, taking out his kneecap. He stumbled, fell, lost part of his calf, and then got right back up, took a running leap, and began gliding along the side of a building.

The other three joined him.

Madeline looked at her brother. "These things run on walls?"

Rick aimed and shot another mummy, missing entirely. "Apparently."

Madeline took aim as well, and fired. The wall-climbing mummy she'd been aiming for lost a hand. It didn't even slow down. "You know, Jonathan's driving this bus," she announced.

"I'm well aware." Rick fired, took out a piece of one mummy's arm, and then swore as it kept going.

"Jonathan's driving," she went on. "And these things run on walls." Madeline aimed the shotgun, pulled the trigger, and obliterated one mummy's foot. He barely broke stride.

"And nothing stops them," she finished. "You know we're screwed, right?"

"Yeah," Rick replied, shooting and missing another one. "That thought had occurred to me."

Suddenly, all four mummies leapt off their respective walls, and went flying towards the bus. "Oh, this is just perfect!" Rick exclaimed.

At least two of them landed on top of the bus. Madeline knew this because they made a big enough impact on the roof that she could see where their landings had dented the metal.

Rick aimed at the ceiling and opened fire. He blew a hole in the roof. Madeline followed suit.

But it didn't seem to make much difference what they did. The mummies jumped around on the rooftop, denting the metal, and managing to dodge whatever Madeline or her brother fired their way.

Then they ran out of bullets and had to reload. Which didn't work out so well.

One gray, rotten mummy hand burst through one of the shotgun holes in the roof, grabbing the metal rooftop and tearing a wide enough hole for the mummy to drop down into.

Rick shoved Madeline back towards the window. She hastened to finish reloading as the mummy grabbed hold of her brother, sending him flying towards the other end of the bus. His gun went flying too, tumbling down through some stupid design flaw, and vanishing for good.

But the time Rick had bought her was enough. Shotgun loaded, Madeline held her ground as the mummy advanced on her. She aimed and fired, hitting it right in the head.

There was a shower of dust as the head exploded. The body struggled towards her, clinging to life, and Madeline fired first at its chest, and then somewhere around its pelvic region. There were two more explosions of dust, and the mummy crumbled to the ground, dead.

Well, more dead, anyway.

Madeline sighed, lowering her gun. Rick looked up from the floor, wincing. She caught his eye and grinned.

"Nice one," Rick smirked, sitting up slowly.

That's when rooftop mummy number two showed up.

* * *

On the lower level of the bus, Nasira and her brother held their ground, waiting for the creatures to come to them. Evie and Alex stayed in the back, behind Jonathan, who was still driving down the road like a mad man.

All too soon, Nasira thought bitterly, Imhotep's protectors came down on the bus, leaping off the walls they'd been scaling – yes, they scaled walls – and attacked.

Where the other two mummies went, Nasira had no idea, and she had no time to worry about them. She was far too preoccupied fighting off the two mummies that had decided to make their appearance on the bus's lower level.

One tried to throw itself inside through the open door. Her brother stopped it cold. Ardeth and his Thompson opened fire, the machine gun riddling the mummy's lower half with bullets.

The other mummy came crashing in through one of the windows, landing on top of Nasira.

As the sound of the Thompson echoed throughout the bus, Nasira rolled around on the floor with the second mummy, struggling to wrench her machine gun from its hands. They wrestled, banging into the seats, until Nasira finally got smart and let go of the gun.

The mummy's own strength propelled the machine gun into its face. Momentarily out of commission, the mummy toppled backwards, its grip on the gun loosening. Nasira shoved her assailant off of her, yanked her machine gun from its hands, and struggled to her feet.

The mummy struggled to its feet as well, positioning itself between her and the front of the bus. There was no way to kill it without also killing Evie, Alex, or Jonathan.

Damn.

The mummy advanced on her. Nasira backed away, carefully moving to the left as she did so. The mummy mirrored her actions exactly. Once the mummy was standing between her and the right front windows, where her friends would be out of range, Nasira opened fire.

The mummy let loose a horrible howl as Nasira filled it full of bullets. She kept a tight grip on her weapon, doing her best to move it up and down so that she could destroy more of the mummy's body. She didn't let up until her bullets were spent.

Now a sad jumble of arms and legs, the mummy before her disintegrated into a pile of dust and limbs on the floor of the bus. Nasira sighed in relief. Turning to her brother, she saw that he too had disposed of his opponent and was now leaning beside the stairwell, breathing heavily.

She nodded in Ardeth's direction. "Out of breath, brother?" she teased. "You're getting old."

"Not so old," he returned, smirking at her. "Care to test me and see?"

Nasira laughed. "I will," she informed him. "Another time. Not now. Definitely not now. Too close to unconsciousness right now."

He laughed too. Then he stepped further into the bus, examining his now worthless machine gun. "We are out of bullets," he observed.

"Yes," Nasira said. "And hopefully out of mummies as well."

She had spoken too soon. Suddenly there was a loud, earth-shattering roar, and the mummy Ardeth had supposedly taken care off flew into the room, literally only half the man it was, dragging itself along using its upper body strength and the handrails around the ceiling. Evelyn screamed. Alex hid his face in his mother's stomach. Nasira let loose a short, surprised shriek of her own and reached for her sword.

A sharp cry escaped her brother's lips as the legless mummy threw him into the windows. He bounced off, landing on one of the bench seats. Sword drawn and swinging, Nasira charged the mummy's torso in a rage.

There was a sharp, searing sound as the mummy released a set of retractable claws and swung back. Nasira barely dodged the mummy's fingernails in time, almost earning herself three long scars to go with the new tattoo on her cheek. She swung at the mummy's torso once again from her new, lower position, but only managed to knock loose some of the bottom ribs. The mummy turned the tables, charging her instead, blocking each blow of her sword with its long claws.

Ardeth appeared from behind the mummy, clutching his own sword. The blade nearly struck at the neck, almost cleaving the head from the mummy's shoulders, but the undead warrior proved too quick. The mummy swung, hanging from the handrails by one arm, and caught Ardeth's sword in hand, wrestling it from Ardeth's grip. Then it flung the sword off into the corner, nearly slicing Nasira in the face. She ducked, and the sword passed harmlessly over her head.

The mummy suddenly let go of the handrails, launching itself at Ardeth. Its strong, powerful hands closed tightly around her brother's neck. Nasira ran to Ardeth's aid, sword in hand.

She swore the mummy had eyes in the back of its head. Without even turning around, the mummy reached behind its back and caught her sword halfway through its deadly journey to the mummy's neck. Then it snatched the blade right out of her hands and threw her sword across the bus just as it had Ardeth's. Moments later, it tossed Ardeth as well.

Her brother landed on top of her. The two of them sprawled to the floor. Then the mummy went after Evie and Alex.

Evelyn shrieked again. Nasira shoved her brother off of her and chased after the mummy, throwing herself on its back and wrapping her arms tightly around its neck. The mummy began jerking around wildly, trying to throw her off.

Ardeth appeared in front of the mummy, throwing punches. The mummy ducked each swing, still trying to shake Nasira loose. "This is ridiculous!" Nasira bellowed as she hung on for dear life. "It is only half a mummy! We are being beaten by a torso! Ow!"

One of Ardeth's punches hit her in the face by accident, and she let go of the mummy's neck, crumbling to the floor. "Nasira!" her brother cried out desperately. The desperate cry quickly turned to one of pain as the mummy flung him into a wall.

Then three powerful shotgun blasts exploded right above Nasira's head. Each blast hit the mummy in just the right spots, and suddenly their opponent was dust.

Nasira and Ardeth, both piled on the floor, looked up in surprise. Evelyn was standing at the front of the bus, hiding her son behind her, and gripping Rick's shotgun.

They stared at her for a moment. Nasira tried desperately to catch her breath. Her brother groaned, dragging himself into a seat. Nasira followed suit, and then returned her stare to Evie, gesturing at the gun.

"Where in Allah's name did that come from?"

* * *

Mummy number two dropped down quite unexpectedly through the hole in the roof, landing right on Madeline. She cried out in both pain and surprise as the tall, broad, undead monster crashed down on top of her, knocking her to the ground. Her gun fell from her hands, and the mummy kicked it, sending it toppling down the stairs.

"Oh, crap," she spat, watching her gun disappear into the lower level.

Rick let loose a loud battle cry, launching himself at the new mummy. The mummy whirled around as Rick came rushing towards it, and smacked him in the face. Rick hit the ground.

Madeline leapt to her feet and kicked the mummy in the stomach. The mummy grabbed her calf and yanked, hard. Suddenly she was flat on her back, lying on the floor.

Great, she thought sarcastically. This is just pathetic.

The mummy grabbed her hair, and Madeline considered just cutting the damn stuff off – a consideration that she'd been having periodically throughout the night. Rick pulled himself off the ground and tackled the mummy again. The two of them collided with the far window, and Madeline went with them, dragged along by her hair.

Cussing, she grabbed hold of the mummy's arm and snapped it off violently at the elbow. The mummy let loose a howl of pain as its arm came loose. Madeline pried the undead fingers from her hair and hurled the limb out the open back window.

Rick and the mummy were rolling around the floor now. Madeline crawled up behind Rick's opponent and grabbed it by the neck, trying desperately to wrestle the thing off her brother.

The three of them struggled on the floor for a while. After several moments of thrashing about, the mummy finally managed to shake Madeline loose and send her flying backwards into the wall by the stairs. Then it grabbed Rick by the neck.

Rick smashed two fingers into the mummy's eye sockets. The sight of the gray goop on his fingers when he pulled them back was enough to make Madeline gag. Rick used the time the move had bought him to struggle to his feet, mummy still clamped on to his throat. Then, Rick caught sight of something over the mummy's shoulder and his eyes went wide.

"Not good!" he shouted.

"What?" Madeline demanded, getting to her feet as well.

Rick didn't respond. He stumbled backwards just enough to stand beside his sister, and then kicked Madeline behind her knees.

She let out a startled shriek, and then toppled down the stairs exactly like her shotgun had just moments before.

Squeaking and cussing as she rolled down the steps, Madeline counted the bruises forming as she fell, determined to pay her stupid oaf of an older brother back for each one. She landed hard on the floor of the lower level, out of breath and sore. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted up the stairs, still lying on her back.

That's when the bus hit something. Not the whole bus, Madeline mused, because the madman at the wheel – aka, Jonathan – kept right on going. But there was no denying the horrible crunching and splintering of metal hitting concrete as Jonathan drove under a bridge that was too low to clear a double-decker. As Madeline gaped up the stairs, she saw the top half of the bus get smashed right off, metal crumpling and seats collapsing. Debris tumbled down the staircase, and Madeline threw her arms over her head, shielding her face from the scrap metal falling her way.

Once she was sure there were no more falling debris, she lowered her arms and squinted up the stairs. The top level was gone. All that remained was a jumbled mess of crinkled metal and broken chairs.

Madeline's stomach twisted itself into one very complex knot. "Rick?" she called up the stairs, disguising her worry with a joke – one that she hoped wasn't about to be proven massively inappropriate. "You still alive up there?"

A reply came in the form of a grunt that was unmistakably her older brother. "Yeah," he called back gruffly. "I'm good."

She heard him banging around the top level and breathed a sigh of relief. "The mummy's dead now, right?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," Rick replied. "He's dead all right. I mean, well… dead_er_."

Shaking her head, Madeline hauled herself off the ground and took in the scene on the lower level of the bus. Two abandoned machine guns and two lost swords lay forgotten on the floor. Glass littered the ground under one broken window. Evie was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, her son held against her. Jonathan, still at the wheel, slowed down and parked. Even from her distance, Madeline could tell his shoulders were hunched and tensed with terror.

Ardeth sat on one side of the bus, catching his breath. Across from him sat his sister, doing the same.

Madeline limped away from the bus door. Alex disentangled himself from his mother and launched himself at his aunt. Wincing, Madeline caught her nephew as he wrapped her up in a very aggressive hug. "Aunt Maddie!" he exclaimed. "You're back!"

She nodded, hugging him back and patting him on the head. "Yep. I'm back," she said, slowly removing herself from the very sweet but incredibly painful hug. "Sorry kiddo, but Aunt Maddie's kind of sore."

He grinned up at her. "It's all right!" he chirped, letting go.

She smiled at him, ruffling his hair. "Aunt Maddie!" he protested, ducking out of the way and running for cover behind his mom.

Madeline walked stiffly over to the seat beside Nasira and plopped down, exhausted. "You ok?" she asked.

Nasira nodded. "Excellent," she returned. "Yourself?"

Madeline smirked. "Fantastic."

The sound of Rick's heavy boots pounding on the stairs echoed through the lower level as he returned from the decimated bus top. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, taking in the exhausted and breathless people filling the bus seats.

"Whoa," he murmured. "You break anything falling down those stairs, Maddie?"

"No," she returned. "And what do you mean falling? You kicked me!"

"Saved your ass," he retorted. Then he turned his attention to Ardeth. "You all right?"

Ardeth mustered up a smirk for Madeline's older brother. "This was my first bus ride," he replied breathlessly.

Rick smirked back, amused. "Nasira?" he asked.

"Same," she replied.

Rick smirked at her too, and then crossed the bus to where his wife was beckoning him. "What would I do without you?" Evie asked seductively as her husband fell into her open arms.

"Are all librarians this much trouble?" Rick returned, leaning in for a kiss. The two of them were soon caught up in an unbreakable and nauseating lip-lock.

"Oh please," Alex muttered, heading for the opposite end of the bus. "Get a room."

His parents continued kissing as though he hadn't spoken. Rolling her eyes, Madeline looked away from her brother and his wife, leaning back in her seat.

Mistake. Her eyes met Ardeth's.

For a moment, all Madeline could do was stare at him. It seemed the feeling was mutual, because Ardeth stared back. His dark eyes bored into hers, and Madeline found herself unable to look away.

Four years. It had been four years, and nothing had changed. She wasn't sure whether she ought to be glad or bitterly disappointed. One look from him was still enough to tie her stomach up in knots… and her tongue too, for that matter.

He looked very much the same as he had the last time she'd seen him. A little older, perhaps. Weary. And not nearly as kind.

Madeline wondered briefly if he'd ever be kind to her again.

Despite feeling Nasira's eyes boring into the side of her head, Madeline could not bring herself to either look away or speak. Finally, after several long moments of staring, Ardeth broke the silence.

"Madeline," he murmured, inclining his head in greeting.

She copied his head incline, trying to force a smile. "Ardeth," she replied quietly.

They stared at one another some more. Madeline searched her brain desperately for something to say. "Hi," she tried finally.

His lips didn't even twitch, which hurt. "Hello," he returned.

Again, that awful silence. Again, that compulsive staring. Madeline began to wonder if she was doomed to spend the rest of her life sitting on this bus and staring silently at Ardeth Bay.

"Usually, in most civilized conversations, the next step is for one person to ask the other, 'How are you?'" Nasira announced suddenly, breaking the stillness.

At the very least, her comment stopped the staring. Both Madeline and Ardeth turned to the youngest Bay and glared at her. Wearing a soft but teasing smile, Nasira held up her hands in surrender. "What?" she asked innocently. "I was only trying to help."

But before either of the three could say anything else, there was frightened shriek from the back of the bus. Madeline's head snapped up in horror and she jumped involuntarily to her feet. Rick pushed past her in a panic, bellowing his son's name, and ran to the exit, leaping from the bus and tearing off down the street.

The men from the museum had followed them. And now, they had Alex.

* * *


	7. Heading Back to Egypt

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion pictures _The Mummy_ or _The Mummy Returns_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to Pirate College Graduate, Nelle07, benzene, bringmetheangie, Padme4000, YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko, tigerlily124, SandraSmit19, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, gothicluver13, pirate hero, kennyx, WhiteInnocence, SingingintheRain1989, winged-karma, cherio lucy, IKeepGoldFishInMyBra, and most especially to Amanda! Thanks for watching my back! ;)

* * *

Chapter 7: Heading Back to Egypt

The next few minutes were a blur.

Alex had been dragged into a waiting automobile. The bus had been parked beside a drawbridge, so the car sped off across the river. To make matters worse, the bad guys had drawn the bridge up behind them, making pursuit impossible.

Not that Rick hadn't tried. He'd taken off running after the car, ignoring the increasing steepness of the road, and tried to leap across the river from one parted half of the drawbridge to the other.

All he really managed to do was keep from rolling down the now vertical road and ending up back at the bus by grabbing hold of the edge of the bridge.

Evie had burst into tears, throwing herself at Madeline. Why she'd chosen Madeline's shoulder to cry on was anyone's guess, but Madeline didn't complain. She wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law, and hugged her tightly as Evie sobbed into her collar.

Jonathan and Ardeth took on the task of lowering the bridge. Nasira stood beside the bus, watching Madeline and Evie in grim silence.

When Rick, Jonathan, and Ardeth finally rejoined them, Evie released Madeline and launched herself at her husband instead. The two of them stood in the center of the road, arms around one another, both desperately seeking comfort in the face of loosing their son. Evie's tears began to dissipate as Rick held her, but her expression was still heartbroken.

Madeline was rather upset herself. Alex wasn't her son, but he was her nephew, and she cared deeply about the kid, no matter how much of an obnoxious little troublemaker he was. They'd been pals, Madeline and her nephew. He'd needed someone to look out for him. Don't get her wrong… Evie and Rick were great parents, but their constant thrill-seeking often left Alex feeling lonely. When that happened, the eight-year-old often sought attention from either her or Jonathan.

Why hadn't she been paying attention to him, she thought miserably. Why hadn't she been watching him, or trying to keep him away from the door? She'd been sitting right there – she should have seen the car pull up. She should have seen the man appear in the door. She should have been able to stop him from taking her nephew.

Why hadn't any of them been watching him? Madeline sighed heavily, leaning against the bus, and stared down at the pavement, blinking fiercely.

"Please don't worry for your son," Ardeth spoke up. "So long as he wears the Bracelet of Anubis, they cannot harm him."

Well, that was a development Madeline hadn't expected. Apparently, her sister-in-law hadn't expected that either. Evie looked up at Ardeth's words, shocked. "Alex is wearing the bracelet?" she asked.

Rick nodded, taking over Ardeth's tale. "When he put it on, he said he saw the pyramids at Giza and the temple at Karnak…"

"Yes," Ardeth interrupted. "And when they reach Karnak, the bracelet will show him the next step of the journey."

Madeline got the idea this was supposed to be good news. Evie, on the other hand, apparently hadn't gotten that idea at all. She looked fairly panic-stricken. "But if we don't get to Karnak before them, we won't have any idea where to look for him next!"

Which was a good point, Madeline had to admit. Her stomach sank.

"Seems to me like we need a magic carpet," her brother murmured.

He thought for a moment, and then suddenly Rick was in action. "All right," he ordered. "Jonathan, drive us back to the manor. I have to make a phone call. The rest of you pack up and be ready to leave in less than an hour."

Rick raced on board the bus. Evie took off after him. Jonathan looked positively white with terror at the prospect of having to drive the bus again, but climbed on board anyway. Ardeth followed him, not sparing a glance at either Madeline or Nasira. The two women were the last to board the bus.

They sat down beside one another as Jonathan turned the bus on and started driving again – moving along much more slowly than he had before. Madeline turned to Nasira and said in an undertone, "All right, maybe I'm _way_ behind on the times here, but I was kidnapped, so I think have an excuse. Alex is wearing the Bracelet of Anubis?"

Nasira nodded. "Yes," she murmured darkly.

Madeline frowned. "I thought that was a good thing."

"It is good in that what Ardeth says is true," the woman warrior replied. "As long as your nephew wears that bracelet, he can't be harmed."

"I sense a 'but,'" Madeline sighed. "Ok, seriously, Nasira. Someone needs to fill me in. What's the deal with the bracelet?"

"When your nephew put on the bracelet, he began the resurrection of the Scorpion King," Nasira explained. "The bracelet will lead Alex to Ahm Shere, a secret and forbidden oasis somewhere in Egypt. In the Oasis is a large golden pyramid with a huge diamond at the top. There lies the Scorpion King.

"The Scorpion King has control over the army of Anubis. Should he awaken, he will summon the armies and send them to unleash hell on earth. Simply put, he will take over the world, destroying everything and everyone in his path. To stop him, he must be killed. Whoever kills the Scorpion King takes control of his armies. That person can either use the army of Anubis to take over the world themselves, or they can send Anubis's warriors back to the underworld."

Madeline blinked. "And those guys in the red turbans…"

"They call themselves the Red Scarves," Nasira explained. "They were once Med-jai, but turned against their people. Instead of protecting our treasures, they decided it would be better to profit off them."

"So they want to take over the world?"

"Yes."

"And Imhotep…?"

"Has been resurrected to fight and kill the Scorpion King."

"Ah." Madeline took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Great. I told that kid not to touch the bracelet."

There was silence. "Jonathan!" Rick hollered at the front of the bus. "Can we move this thing a little faster, please? I've got a kidnapped son out there for crying out loud!"

Any other time, Jonathan probably would have made some sort of sarcastic retort, but his own concern for the missing boy seemed to motivate him into silence. Wordlessly, Jonathan sped up.

Madeline looked at Nasira. "That Lock'nah guy leads the Red Scarves?" she asked.

Nasira nodded. "He is their leader, and has been since the death of his father. This Hafez character… he pretends to call the shots, but I don't believe he truly does. He has most likely been inducted into their tribe for his knowledge of Ancient Egypt."

Madeline nodded back. "So, um…" she began, crinkling up her forehead. How exactly to broach this subject? Thoughtfully chewing her lip, Madeline hedged out a semi-suitable opener. "That Lock'nah guy. He… um… he really doesn't like you guys, does he?"

The other woman began glowering at the floor beneath her. "We are sworn enemies. During the uprising of the Red Scarves, Lock'nah and his brother Nagesi were responsible for the deaths of my parents."

"Oh," Madeline breathed. She wondered if she ought to hug Nasira or something. Maybe a comforting pat on the arm? "I'm sorry," she murmured, tapping her awkwardly on the shoulder.

Nasira had more to say on the subject. "The desire for vengeance is not one-sided," she continued. "After the uprising began, Ardeth killed their father in the ensuing battle. There is bad blood on all sides, and it goes deeper than tribal loyalties."

Madeline nodded to show she comprehended. She began chewing her lip, wondering if she ought to say something about Lock'nah and his reasons for kidnapping her. Just as she had decided to keep it to herself – she really didn't need the Med-jai trying to rescue her more than they already had – Nasira brought up the subject on her own.

"Ardeth believes Lock'nah kidnapped you for vengeance," she whispered, glancing furtively at her older brother. The Med-jai chieftain appeared not to be the least bit interested in either his sister or Madeline. Nasira turned back to Madeline. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Who, Ardeth?"

Nasira rolled her eyes. "_No_, Madeline, Lock'nah. Did Lock'nah say anything to you?"

Madeline chewed on her lip again. "He did, didn't he?" Nasira pounced. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Madeline sighed. "He said basically what you thought. I didn't really understand _why_ he wanted revenge so bad, but… well, now I do."

Nasira looked very upset. "We won't let that happen," she assured Madeline. "Ardeth and I will make sure…"

"That's sweet, Nasira, really," Madeline interrupted. "But I can take care of myself. I don't need you guys trying to solve my problems for me. I'm an adult, and…"

Nasira snorted, interrupting her. "Oh, stop it. You are being ridiculous. This is hardly _your_ problem. You certainly didn't create it. This is our fault. The fault of the Med-jai. _We_ created this problem for you, and therefore we are responsible."

Madeline suddenly felt awkward. "Well, thanks," she murmured. "But I really can hold my own. I'll be fine."

Nasira snorted again, but made no further comment.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Madeline occasionally cast glances at the girl beside her, trying to decide what was so different about her. She was a warrior now, but Madeline already knew that. She'd known since it first happened, as an overly excited Nasira had quickly written her a letter containing the news. True, it was a bit surprising to see Nasira in full warrior's garb. Madeline wasn't sure why, but she hadn't quite expected to see the Med-jai tattoos on her cheeks and forehead. It would hold that, upon earning her place in the Med-jai army, Nasira would be tattooed the same way her comrades were, but still the thought had never occurred to Madeline.

Nasira looked older too. The teenager from four years ago was gone, replaced by a mature young woman – far more mature than Madeline had been at her age.

But none of that was the answer to Madeline's question. It wasn't the extra years, it wasn't the tattoos, and it wasn't the warrior's clothes. There was something else different about Nasira. She wasn't… she wasn't the same, smiling, lively young girl she'd once been. She was… stern.

Suddenly, Madeline felt sad for her young friend. Nasira had wanted to be a warrior so much. It had been her one dream in life, and now…

It seemed a pity that achieving her goals had come at such a heavy price.

Finally, Jonathan pulled the double-decker bus up outside the gates of the O'Connell manor. His passengers filed out of the bus and ducked inside the fence, heading up the long winding drive.

Jonathan, the last off the bus, jogged to catch up with Madeline, bumping her affectionately in the side. "Bloody hell, old girl, was I worried about you," he announced.

She smirked at him. "You're telling me this now? I've been un-kidnapped for about an hour, Jonathan."

"Yes, yes, I know, but I just now got around to talking to you about it. Which is perfectly understandable. I _was_ driving the get away bus."

Madeline snorted. "Yes. You were the madman behind the wheel of the double-decker from Hell."

"Excuse me, but I like to think my out of control driving is what saved the day."

She smirked again, this time rather sadly. Jonathan sobered too. "We'll get Alex back, you know," he told her. "And I don't want you bloody blaming yourself for this, because I know you are. Just like I know that you doing so is completely ridiculous."

Madeline rolled her eyes. "Not that ridiculous. I mean, Jonathan… he was _right_ next to me. If I'd only been paying more attention…"

"Like you were the only one on the bus! Please!"

She sighed. "I can't help it, Jonathan. I'm worried."

"We all are."

They fell quiet, nearing the house. "So… how's seeing the old Med-jai man again treating you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question earned him another eye roll. "What do you think? Badly."

He patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. "Everything will be all right, old girl. We've faced worse than this."

Had they? Of course they'd been in bad situations before, but… well, Madeline would have to say this crap-fest had to be at the very least about equal in crappiness to the previous crap fests of her life. Possibly worse, although that might be stretching it.

She sighed again. Upon reaching the front door, everyone rushed inside. Rick dashed off to use the phone, while Madeline and Evie ran upstairs to change into pants.

Upstairs, in the room that had never really felt like _her_ room, Madeline threw open her closet and ripped down a pair of pants and a simple shirt that she rarely got the opportunity to wear in this cold, dismal country. Quickly, she changed out of her stupid dress and slid back into the clothes that she had once worn everywhere.

She pulled on tall boots, tossing her useless high heels in a corner. God, she hated those things.

Then she reached under her bed and yanked out an old, worn, and beaten up knapsack.

Madeline stared at the knapsack for a moment, suddenly overcome by ill-timed nostalgia. That knapsack had seen her through a lot. It had seen her through the mess with Luke Berkley and his ancestress, Nitocris; it had seen her through the first resurrection of Imhotep; and it had seen her through an entire year on the streets of Cairo, after she and Rick had run away from the orphanage. That knapsack had been good to her. The two of them, well… they'd been through a lot together.

She sighed. Wow. She really needed a new knapsack.

Madeline tossed the bag on her bed and unbuttoned it. Then she began to pack. No clothes; only weapons. Lots of weapons.

An old rifle, several pistols, several knives, her swords, lots of ammo…

Finally, when Madeline's knapsack could hold nothing more, she hefted it onto her shoulder and marched back downstairs.

Everyone was down there except Evie. She could hear Rick's muffled voice coming from the next room as he argued with someone over the phone.

Jonathan was seated on the couch with Nasira, his bag at his feet. Rick's bag was sitting on the table by the door to the next room. Ardeth was leaning against the wall, on the other side of said door.

Madeline decided to take a seat as far away from him as possible. She sat down in a small, rather uncomfortable armchair next to the bust of some pharaoh; one of many busts that Evie had scattered through the house.

She sighed, listening to her brother's muffled voice as he continued arguing with whoever was on the phone. Evie _still_ hadn't come downstairs, and Madeline couldn't understand what was taking her so long.

Leaning back in the chair, Madeline closed her eyes and tried to focus on the tasks ahead of her. They had to get to Egypt, they had to find Rick's 'magic carpet' and they had to save Alex. Saving Alex included tracking the eight-year-old boy across Egypt and facing off with a three thousand year old walking talking undead mummy and his reincarnated girlfriend. Oh, and a tribe of ex Med-jai in red turbans, one of whom really wanted her dead.

Sometimes, Madeline wondered what it'd be like to live a normal life.

* * *

Nasira remembered her first meeting with Jonathan Carnahan like it happened yesterday.

It had actually happened four years ago, but no one could tell just by looking at Jonathan. He hadn't changed much, Nasira decided. Same good looks, same slick manners, same haircut.

Literally, the same haircut. It was one thing for her to be sporting the same look; she lived out in the middle of the desert and clashed swords with evil. What was his excuse?

Yes, Jonathan looked and spoke the same way he always did, but Nasira began to doubt that this was the same man she'd known four years ago. His behavior at the museum suggested a different man – a man now less than what he once was. They had all changed, she decided. Even Madeline was different. She had been wearing a dress, for Allah's sake. Voluntarily.

But Madeline had also proved to be the same when it came to danger; brave and willing to fight. She'd even rescued herself from her kidnappers, which had fully impressed Nasira. And, of course, when it came to Ardeth… Madeline still seemed tongue tied.

But then, after what had happened four years ago, Ardeth's tongue seemed as tied up as Madeline's.

So, Nasira concluded, Rick was different, Madeline was different… and Jonathan was different. Nasira glanced over at the man in question. He was sitting slumped over on the sofa, staring glumly at a spot on the dark parlor carpet. His packed bags were on the floor beside his foot.

"So you are coming then?" Nasira asked him in an undertone. Her tone came off a tad snider than she had meant it to, but Nasira didn't bother to apologize for it. She rather wanted to be snide with Jonathan.

Jonathan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Of course I am," he returned, frowning. "Why the bloody hell wouldn't I be?"

Nasira shrugged. "It will be dangerous," she commented lightly.

"So?"

"Well, you didn't want to go inside the museum earlier," she pointed out. "And this will be much more dangerous than the museum."

Jonathan snorted. "That's a little different. My nephew's been kidnapped; I think I have a right to be concerned."

"True, but your sister and your closest friend were kidnapped earlier. That didn't seem to matter to you then."

"Of course it mattered to me!" Jonathan snapped, eyeing her angrily. "What exactly are you implying?"

Nasira raised an eyebrow, at once realizing she'd offended the man… and that offending him didn't bother her. She wanted to offend Jonathan. There was something inside her completely intent on ruffling the usually suave and debonair man.

She shrugged, affecting carelessness, and leaned against the back of the sofa. "You refused to go inside to rescue them. I simply find it odd that you are willing to rush off to Egypt to save your nephew when earlier tonight you wouldn't even rush inside a museum."

Jonathan sat up straighter, glaring at her. "Yes, well, excuse me for not wanting to leave my eight-year-old nephew alone outside a museum filled with crazy people and evil mummies."

They lapsed into silence. Jonathan looked sulky, and Nasira supposed he had a right. "I am sorry," she murmured.

He waved her off, still looking grumpy. Nasira refused to let it go. Despite her apology, she wasn't really sorry about offending him; she was just very, very curious. She wanted to know if deep down, Jonathan really was the same man she'd met four years ago.

"I suppose it makes sense," she pressed. "That you would want to protect your nephew. I had not thought of it like that."

Jonathan grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"Still," Nasira murmured thoughtfully. "Your words in the car led one to believe otherwise."

Jonathan practically glared at her.

"Am I troubling you?" she asked, certain that she was. Jonathan didn't answer. "I do not mean to," she went on, although she was actually trying very hard to trouble him. "I am only trying to understand what kind of man you are. Everyone seems so different than they did the last time I saw them, and it throws me."

"Four years can change a person," Jonathan mumbled, his tone still irritated.

"Yes, I suppose so," Nasira returned carefully. "Tell me, Jonathan. How has four years changed you?"

Her question proved quite provoking. All of a sudden, Jonathan rounded on her. "Well, why don't you tell me? Seeing as you have so many bloody opinions on the matter!"

Nasira raised an eyebrow.

"I can certainly tell you how you've changed in the past four years," Jonathan barreled on. "Four years ago, you were a nice young girl with very sweet manners, and now you're as surly and provoking as that bloody brother of yours! Yasir or whatever his name was."

Nasira faltered. "You think I am like Yasir?"

"Too right, I do!"

Suddenly, Nasira was much less interested in interrogating Jonathan and much more interested in the clawed foot of the chair opposite her. "I am sorry," she murmured, this time in sincerity. "For offending you."

They fell quiet for a moment. "Hey, now," Jonathan said suddenly. "There's no reason to look like a kicked puppy."

"I do not look like a kicked puppy."

"Oh, you most certainly do!"

"I do not!" Nasira returned defiantly.

Jonathan rolled his eyes and fell silent. Nasira returned to analyzing the furniture.

"Look," he spoke again. "What's all this about, anyway? It's bloody ridiculous, us going at it the way we are. We used to be mates, you know, you and I."

She looked up at him, raising her eyebrow again. "Then we are not mates anymore?" she asked slyly.

"I didn't say that," Jonathan replied. "We could be mates again."

Nasira inclined her head once. "I suppose so."

"You just have to… have to stop… you have to stop being such a bloody Med-jai."

Nasira frowned. "Well, then you have to stop being such a clown!"

"I'm not a clown!"

"You are, and you always have been."

"Well, you liked it four years ago."

"I also liked romance novels four years ago. I liked a lot of things four years ago that I have since dismissed as foolish."

Jonathan blinked. "Bloody hell. Who _are_ you?"

Nasira blinked back. "I am still me," she replied, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded weak.

Jonathan shook his head. "Right. You're the same person. And I'm the Prince of Wales."

She frowned at him. "Well, you are not the same person either. Where's the brave and determined young man from four years ago? The one willing to do anything for his friends? The one who pulled out a rifle in the face of the enemy instead of panicking and stealing a double-decker bus?"

Jonathan frowned at her. "I'll have you know that I was completely capable of stealing a bus four years ago, and I'll still be capable of it four years from now!"

Nasira rolled her eyes and turned away.

Jonathan sighed harshly. "I'm getting a Scotch for the road."

He got up off the sofa and crossed the parlor to the small dry bar in the corner. Nasira watched as he pulled out his Scotch bottle and a small glass.

Had she truly changed so much? And was Jonathan still the same person, just seen in a different light? Nasira continued to watch him as he poured his drink. She was not the same, she knew. But she hadn't believed she'd become an entirely new person – at least, she hadn't believed it until now.

It was true, after all, what Jonathan had said. Four years ago, they had been friends. Now, they were clearly not.

What was so different, she wondered, about now?

* * *

_Cairo, four years earlier…_

Nasira Bay stood in the dusty road with her arms folded across her chest, and stared at the tavern before her. The Drunken Scarab was a mess. Maybe once upon a time, the bar had held up an impressive front, but today the building was a mere shadow of the previously popular pub. The wooden face was riddled with bullet holes and every window was shattered. Glass littered the ground outside the bar, and the front door had been boarded up in a half-hearted attempt to prevent looting.

Jonathan Carnahan stood beside her, one hand scratching at the back of his brown hair, and squinted at the tavern. "Doesn't look like much," he announced. "Not after those Berkley bastards got through with it. But she was charming, once."

He sounded nervous, as though waiting for her analysis of his establishment. He also sounded rather heartbroken, and Nasira couldn't really blame him. To see his pub in ruins, after putting so much hard work into making it into the successful business he'd claimed it once was had to be a nasty blow.

She mustered up a smile for the Englishman. "I am sure she was a beauty," she informed him.

He gave her a feeble grin of his own, and then headed around the corner of the tavern, down the alleyway. Nasira followed him, her arms still wrapped around her torso. Jonathan led the way up the rickety, rusting old fire escape ladder to the top floor and then hopped inside the broken window.

Nasira stepped inside after him, hearing glass crunch under her boot. She blinked at her surroundings. She was in a bedroom – or rather, she was in what had once been a bedroom. The bed against the far wall was unmade, the comforter crumpled on the carpeted floor. The carpet itself was splattered with blood and littered with sharp shards of broken glass. Nasira crinkled her nose as she took in the bloodstains and the broken furniture, the bullet freckled walls and the shell speckled floors. She followed Jonathan out into the hallway and back into the main living space.

The upholstery was torn and burned with bullet holes. Cotton stuffing joined the broken glass and the blood stains on the floor. Throw pillows had been blasted into mangled fabric corpses, and the dining table was overturned. The large window on the opposite end of the room was broken, and one of the curtain panels had been torn loose from the rod. It now lay crumpled on the floor beneath the sill.

Again, Jonathan scratched at his hair, his face scrunched awkwardly. "I had her decorated real nice, you know," he said. "Looked like a professional decorator had done her up and all. Just, now…"

He trailed off, shrugging despondently.

Nasira smiled sympathetically at his forlorn figure and glanced around the living room. "I can see how it must have looked," she assured him. "It was grand."

He smiled back. "Well… make yourself comfortable," he told her, waving at the settee. Nasira picked her way through the mess that was the living room and took a seat. "I've got to make a phone call."

Jonathan waded through the broken dishes in the dining area and stepped into the kitchen, presumably to use the telephone.

Nasira watched him until he'd disappeared from view, and then let her shoulders slump, sighing heavily. The flood had wiped out everything. She had nearly drowned in the floodwaters herself; she probably would have if Jonathan hadn't heeded her brother's request and dragged her away from the overflowing river.

She had never wished so hard before in her life that she knew how to swim.

Her brother was gone now. Ardeth had stayed behind to help Madeline, and now both of them had disappeared. What had happened to them was anyone's guess. Both Nasira and Jonathan had spent hours on the banks of the Nile, searching for them. Finally, they'd been forced to conclude that neither Nasira's brother nor Jonathan's friend were anywhere in the vicinity.

They'd driven into Meydum and immediately began searching for them there – without success. Jonathan then called England and told his sister and her husband the news – news that was met with much shouting on the part of Richard O'Connell. And although neither of them said it, Nasira knew Jonathan was thinking the same thing she was.

Ardeth and Madeline could have drowned out there on the river.

Instead of saying that, though, both she and Jonathan continued to talk about them as if they were lost; they must have washed up farther on downriver, or perhaps they'd fallen into the hands of Luke Berkley.

Potentially, the Berkleys getting a hold of her brother and Madeline was worse than if the two had drowned; in the hands of that family, Madeline had the potential to destroy the world. As for Ardeth, they might have killed him on the spot.

But as long as she believed that the two of them had been kidnapped, there was still some hope they were alive. If she began to believe they had drowned – well, they hadn't drowned, and that was all there was to it.

Jonathan stepped out of the kitchen. "Harbor master says Rick and Evie's boat docks in an hour," he informed her. "We better get on down there if we want to meet them."

Nasira nodded. "All right."

"I'm sure they're fine," Jonathan pushed on, as much for her benefit as his own, she'd wager. "Maddie was always good in tight spot – she's gotten me out of more scrapes than I care to count. And your brother's virtually indestructible. Together, they're a force to be reckoned with."

Nasira nodded again. "Yes," she agreed. "They are."

He nodded back, and then disappeared into his bedroom.

Nasira buried her face in her hands, wanting to believe Jonathan's words of encouragement and yet finding she could not. Madeline was a tough woman, this Nasira knew. She was every bit as capable of holding her own as Nasira's cantankerous Aunt Baheera. But with that necklace around her neck, Madeline was vulnerable. There was no telling what the necklace might do to her as long as she was in its clutches. Even if it hadn't drowned her in the river, and she had been kidnapped by the Berkleys instead, that necklace certainly wasn't going to help her much against them. If she didn't lead the Berkleys where the necklace wanted her to go, she'd be far too ill to try and fight them… and eventually that illness would kill her.

As for Ardeth, he might fare better. But he was far from indestructible, and Nasira had seen him wounded in battle one too many times not to know that. Her brother was mortal. He could be killed by mortal weapons. And while he might have survived the flood, that didn't mean he would survive the Berkleys. While Madeline couldn't be killed until the phases were complete, there was no such guarantee for Ardeth's safety. Unless the Berkleys chose to use him as leverage against Madeline, they might have murdered him on sight.

If they had decided to keep him alive, then he might be able to escape. But Nasira knew her brother too well to hope for this. He would not leave without Madeline. Staying for her was noble, yes, but it might very well get him killed.

Before she could stop herself, Nasira found herself crying into the palms of her hands.

"All right, my dear, if you're ready…"

Jonathan's voice snapped her out of her reverie. She looked up, startled. He stopped in the entrance to the living room and stared at her, his sentence left unfinished.

"Oh, dear," he murmured. "You've been crying."

"Clearly," she snapped, and instantly regretted it. "I am sorry."

"No, no, don't apologize," he said, waving her off. "I've been snapped at before, and I wager I'll be snapped at again. In fact, I might just be snapped in two when O'Connell gets here. He can be quite unreasonable when it comes to his sister."

Nasira managed a weak smile and then wiped her eyes. Jonathan crossed the room and took a seat beside her on the settee. His hand rested heavily on her shoulder.

"We can take a moment," he told her. "If you need it."

She smiled gratefully. "No, I am fine. I just… experienced a moment of weakness. I assure you it will not happen again."

Jonathan raised his eyebrow. "Well, you'll get no such assurances from me. I experience moments of weakness all the bloody time, and you'll just have to deal with them."

Nasira responded with a small, half-hearted laugh.

"That wasn't a joke," he informed her. "I meant every word. Now, if you need to bawl your eyes, well… you go right ahead my dear."

She laughed again. The laugh was followed by an involuntarily sob, and then Nasira buried her face in her hands once again and began to cry a second time.

Jonathan sat beside her the entire time, patting her back, and mumbling comforting nonsense. It was the sort of comfort she rarely received from anyone, and especially not from men. Only one other man would have done that for her, and at the moment he was missing – lost in the river.

It was that very day that Nasira added Jonathan Carnahan to her relatively small list of friends, and decided he was a particularly excellent friend at that.

* * *

"All right, let's get the hell out of here."

Nasira looked up in surprise, jolted from her memory. At some point, Evie had come downstairs, and she was standing beside Madeline's chair. Her husband, Rick, had finally gotten off the phone. It had been him who had spoken.

"We have a plan, then?" Jonathan questioned him.

Rick nodded. "I've got an ex-military buddy meeting us at the docks. He has a plane."

"Will he be taking us to Karnak?" Evie asked.

Rick shook his head. "He can't swing that. Closest he can get us is out by Hamunaptra way. It's all right, though. I have another army buddy out there. He was actually the man I had in mind for the job, anyway."

Evie looked grim, but she nodded her agreement to the terms.

"We all ready?" Rick asked.

One by one, Nasira, Jonathan, Ardeth, Madeline, and Evie all nodded.

"Good," Rick said, heading for the door. "Let's go."

* * *


	8. Mad Dog McGuire

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion pictures _The Mummy_ or _The Mummy Returns_, or even _The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to Angels-Heart1, Nelle07, Fairy Skull, SingingintheRain1989, SandraSmit19, Padme4000, benzene, zentry, bringmetheangie, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, IKeepGoldFishInMyBra, midnight-flurry, discompobilated, tigerlily124, WhiteInnocence, bornoftheearth92, pirate hero and Amanda!

* * *

Chapter 8: Mad Dog McGuire

Ardeth Bay wanted to scream. He absolutely did. He wanted to let out a loud, aggravated roar and then haul off and kick something.

That's what he wanted to do more than anything. He wanted to kick something, and then belt out a creative string of curses that even Jonathan would be proud of – if he understood Arabic, that is.

But that was not his way. Not anymore. Not since he was a teenage boy. He was expected to stay calm and collected in the face of a challenge – any challenge. Even if that particular challenge was the end of the world.

Which it was.

Instead, Ardeth stood silently, slightly removed from the rest of the group, waiting for this old army buddy of O'Connell's to show up. The six of them had ended up down at the city docks, nearby a large building that O'Connell claimed was an airplane hanger… and as far as Ardeth was concerned, that was both good and terrible news.

He was nervous but he refused to let anyone see it. It was a difficult feat, as there was plenty to be nervous about and every last one of those things was on his mind. For one, he hated to fly. For another, he was worried about his friend's son, who was at the mercy of one of the cruelest men Ardeth knew. And most importantly, he was terrified about making good time – because they only had seven days to reach Ahm Shere and stop the Scorpion King.

His sister knew he was upset; of that, he was certain. That was the thing about Nasira – she always knew the difference between his real calm, and his fake calm. But she also had enough tact not to approach him about it – at least, not in the presence of other people.

And that was the reason Ardeth found himself looking over at Madeline – because once upon a time, she had possessed the same ability that Nasira did – the ability to know when he was fine, and when he was acting. And unlike Nasira, she had never had enough tact to keep quiet about it.

As aggravating as that had been at times, Ardeth had to admit that quite often during the course of the past four years, he'd missed her ability to read him, and her complete lack of tact.

He also missed the small jokes she told that could always make him smile, even when times were grim. He missed a lot about Madeline O'Connell, even things that no person in their right mind should miss.

She had changed in the past four years. He had noticed right away. For one thing, she must have been practicing with the sword, because she was much better at it now than when he'd first tried to teach her the skill. She had fought and won against several Red Scarves in the O'Connell manor, and Ardeth was impressed.

There was a certain difference in the way she looked as well. Slightly older, more serious. He didn't care for that, really – that she was more serious. His favorite thing about her had always been that she was rarely serious.

She was paler than she used to be, having lost the coloring the desert gave her. He supposed he could thank England for that. No amount of time in this cold, wet, and dismal country could ever endear him to the place. He wondered if the sun ever shone here.

But despite those differences, many other things about her were still the same. The same long brown hair, the same big blue eyes… the same long, long legs.

And she could still tell a joke, despite the seriousness he kept seeing in her face.

The worst thing, he decided, was that she would not speak to him. She would barely look at him. And Ardeth knew that when it came to her distance, he had only himself to blame. His greeting, after all, had not been warm. The way he had spoken to her on the bus had left no doubt in anyone's mind that he wanted very little to do with her. His first words to her in years, and they had not been at all what he had wanted to say. Still, they were all he would say.

Because it didn't matter how much distance he put between the two of them, it didn't matter how coldly he treated her, it didn't matter how much she ignored him back – he didn't mean any of it. He didn't want to be silent and cold and distant… but he knew that he had to be. Just as he knew that he had to be many other things he had no interest in being.

As he stood on the docks, blocking out the inane bantering passing between Jonathan and O'Connell while staring transfixed at the wooden planks beneath his feet, he suddenly heard a loud, strangely accented laugh sound out from behind him, and then a high pitched and surprised squeal that sounded a lot like Madeline.

It was instinctual, he supposed, the way he instantly whirled around in a defensive stance, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. But he stopped before he could make a fool out of himself.

"Put me down, you jackass!"

"What's the matter, Maddie? Ye not happy to see me?'

"Of course I'm not happy to see you! Put me down, McGuire, or I will kick you so hard…"

"All righ' all righ', don't get yer knickers in a twist…"

As Ardeth watched, rather shocked by the spectacle in front of him, a tall lean man with heavy stubble on his chin and a pilot's helmet on his head lowered a furious Madeline O'Connell back to the ground. As soon as her boots touched the dirt, she smacked him in the chest.

"You crazy bastard!"

"Now, now, darlin' be nice, or I'll have to sing to ye!"

"Don't you dare!"

"Mad Dog," O'Connell spoke up, stepping forward to shake the newcomer's hand. "About time you got here!"

This Mad Dog character shook O'Connell's hand back, and laughed again. "Don't talk back to the man doin' ye favors, Ricochet!"

"My wife, Evie," Rick introduced Mad Dog to Evelyn, and then gestured at Jonathan. "And her brother, Jonathan Carnahan."

"How do you do," Evelyn murmured rather stiffly.

She had stretched out her hand to shake, but Mad Dog wrapped her up in a hug instead. When he finally pulled away, Evelyn looked distinctly ruffled.

"Pleasure's mine, all mine!" he crowed. Then he caught sight of Ardeth and Nasira over Rick's shoulder. Ardeth clenched his jaw tightly when he saw Mad Dog's mouth drop open and his eyes bug out of his head. Mad Dog turned to O'Connell, leaning his elbow heavily on the other man's shoulder.

"Ricochet," he murmured. "Tell me. Have I had too much to drink?"

Ardeth glowered darkly at the man, who barely seemed to notice how offensive his remark had been. Nasira tensed beside him, her hand going to her sword. Ardeth put a restraining hand on her shoulder, seeing that same dark fury that occasionally overtook him and almost always overtook Yasir suddenly clouding her eyes. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and relented slightly, but Ardeth could see that his younger sister still hungered to challenge the boisterous man.

It rather unsettled him, truth be told. Nasira had never been like the other women in camp – she had been wide eyed and dreamy, and at the same time hot tempered. But battle had changed her into someone even angrier, and had transformed her romantic notions into stern ideals. Ardeth couldn't say he was entirely unhappy about the change. Still, it sometimes bothered him to see his younger sister go so readily to her sword.

"No," O'Connell said in response to Mad Dog's question, patting the other man on the shoulder. Wincing, he mouthed an apology to Ardeth and his sister. "These are family friends of ours; Ardeth Bay and his younger sister, Nasira."

Ardeth nodded civilly at the man. Nasira simply glared at him.

Mad Dog saluted them. "Glad to meet ye," he said, grinning. "Well, Ricochet, ye ready fer take off?"

"Have been," O'Connell replied shortly, his mouth set in a grim line. "Let's go."

* * *

Madeline was displeased.

She was sitting on what was supposed to be a seat, directly beside Jonathan, who kept digging through his coat pockets for his flask. Rick sat up front with Mad Dog, and Evie sat directly behind him.

Ardeth and Nasira sat in the back, on crates of all things.

Mad Dog's plane was a piece of shit.

To make matters worse, Madeline was not excited to see Mad Dog at all. As happy as she was that Rick had found a quick ride into Egypt and that Alex was on his way to being rescued, she still wished there had been another ex-army buddy of Rick's to call up and ask for favors. Mad Dog had been the bane of her existence all through her early twenties; hanging around the apartment she shared with Rick, constantly intoxicated – and constantly getting Rick intoxicated as well. Of course, there were times when Mad Dog had gotten _her_ intoxicated… he was actually the one to introduce her to whiskey… but normally she couldn't stand the sight of him. He was like a second older brother, except twice as annoying… and being twice as annoying as Rick was quite a feat.

One of the most annoying of Mad Dog's pastimes… and of course, it was his favorite as well… was to sing to her. It was always the same song, and from what little Madeline could understand of his drunken musical mumblings, it was some Scottish folk song about this McGuire guy chasing after some girl named Kate. Madeline suspected he only liked the stupid song so much because it had his name in it… and, of course, when Mad Dog began to sing it, he always somehow managed to change the name Kate to Maddie… which, besides being just plain annoying, completely threw off the meter of the song.

They had just taken off – amid Jonathan and Evie's horrified screams, as well as some cursing in Arabic from Nasira's corner of the plane – and were just now managing to settle down. After the initial rocky takeoff, Mad Dog's flying skills soon revealed themselves, and the flight turned smooth.

Madeline let loose the breath she'd been holding and leaned back in the seat. She glanced over at Jonathan, who seemed slightly more hesitant to relax. "Are you sure this man knows what he's doing?" Jonathan asked his breath.

"Mad Dog?" she shrugged. "That man can land a plane on anything."

"Yes, but can he fly it?"

Madeline laughed. Jonathan took a sip from his flask and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

That's when the singing began.

"Richie, get up from the fire, get up, and give the man a seat…"

"Oh God no," Madeline groaned, putting her face in her hands. It was starting. He had even changed the name Johnny to Richie.

"What the bloody hell is he singing?" Jonathan muttered.

"Can't you see it's Mr. McGuire, come to court your sister Maddie…"

Mad Dog started laughing, and elbowed Rick in the side.

Rick winced.

"Can you make him stop?" Madeline demanded of her older brother.

"Just calm down, Maddie. He's our ride."

Mad Dog started singing again. "You know very well he owns a farm a wee bit out of town…"

Madeline pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Do all your friends have to be such miserable drunks?" she asked Rick.

Rick responded by rolling his eyes. "Says my little sister, the miserable drunk."

Jonathan snorted, drawing his flask back out of his jacket. "She's hardly a miserable drunk nowadays," he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink. "I find it quite depressing, actually."

Mad Dog continued to sing. Madeline sighed heavily, and then leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. She wasn't sure how this could get worse.

Suddenly the plane shuddered in the heavy wind coming off the Mediterranean. Jonathan cried out in alarm, as did Evie. Madeline flew into the wall beside her as Nasira started cussing in her native language again – really, the girl had quite a mouth on her. Terribly creative. Madeline had never noticed that before.

Mad Dog laughed.

"Just some turbulence, is all!" he called out. "No need to be frightened!"

Madeline glared at him as she righted herself on the 'almost' seat she currently occupied. Then she glanced behind her to check on the Bays, finding Nasira glowering at Mad Dog's head with murder in her eyes, all the while grumbling under her breath.

Ardeth looked pale. His eyes were closed. And Madeline remembered his hesitance to board, as well as his reluctance to get on Winston Havelock's plane nine years ago. She had always suspected Ardeth was afraid to fly – now she was certain of it.

"Not to worry, not to worry," Mad Dog was still rambling on from the front of the plane. "Wind's a pretty common thing coming off the sea. We'll be all right – my plane can take worse, believe me! All we got to do is hope we don't run out of gas!" He laughed again.

"Why the hell would we run out of gas?" Madeline demanded.

Mad Dog shrugged. "Ah, we shouldn't. I filled her up be'ore we left. It's just that the needle on me gas dial got stuck a few months back. I meant to fix it, but… well, things happen, ye know?"

Madeline stared at him in both shock and contempt. Rick turned his head slowly from the front window to gape at his old army buddy. "Anything else on this hunk of junk that doesn't quite work properly, Mad Dog?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anything we might want to know about? Landing equipment, maybe? Steering? Something along those lines?"

"Oh, calm down, Ricochet!" Mad Dog returned, waving him off and laughing again. Madeline failed to pick up on the joke – she found very little to laugh about right now. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Where's your will to live?" Rick retorted.

Mad Dog laughed yet again – seriously, if he didn't stop laughing, Madeline was going to punch him – and started back up with his infuriating singing. "Deedle-dee, deedle-dee, dow dee dow…."

Sighing heavily, Madeline leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She contemplated asking Jonathan for his flask. Very little drove her to drink anymore, but a plane ride with Mad Dog McGuire seemed just about to do the trick.

* * *

Mad Dog's plane touched down directly outside the Hamunaptra Med-jai tribe's campsite. Nasira breathed a sigh of relief as they made landing safe and sound. She had had little faith in Mad Dog's flying abilities after their difficult takeoff, but he had proved himself throughout the rest of the flight.

Still, despite his ability, there was no denying the man was crazy. The landing had been rougher than the takeoff, and Nasira had been pretty sure they were all going to die.

The small rescue party filed off Mad Dog's plane amid the laughter and singing of their crazy pilot. As she hit the sand outside, squinting against the sudden brightness of the sun, Nasira turned to Madeline and announced, "I believe that man was intoxicated for our entire flight."

Madeline looked at her like she was crazy, which Nasira found rather ironic. "Well, of course he was," she replied. "I wouldn't have gotten on the plane if he wasn't."

Nasira blinked. "I am afraid I do not understand your logic."

Her friend took a deep breath, screwing up her face as though she were trying to decide the best way to explain. "You ever meet someone who was _always _drunk? And yet they were completely able to function? In fact, he or she manages to do everything twice as well drunk as they did when they were sober? You know what I'm talking about?"

"Not at all."

Madeline frowned. "Oh. Well, there are people like that. Mad Dog is one of them." Her frown deepened and she muttered, "Actually, most of the people I know are like that."

Nasira decided not to comment on the sidebar. She didn't even think Madeline meant for her to hear it. After one last interested look in Mad Dog's direction, she shrugged and followed the rest of the party towards camp. Mad Dog was fueling up with the little gas he'd brought on the flight with him, and Nasira assumed he would leave once the plane was ready to fly.

As they hiked towards the camp, Nasira watched the company she was in very carefully. She soon found she did not like what she saw. The O'Connells were one thing – they were still worried about Alex, but had managed to calm down, at least for appearances sake. There was nothing regarding them they gave her cause for alarm. Jonathan seemed rather down, however, and every time Nasira glanced in his direction, she caught him sneaking sips out of his flask.

As concerned about him as she was – and Nasira would not lie. She was concerned. Inexplicably so. As concerned about him as she was, Nasira was more worried about her older brother and her old friend, Madeline. They had not spoken since that very awkward moment on the bus. They barely looked at one another. And Nasira was just plain sick of it.

She had changed. She was no longer the silly romantic she was four years ago. But that didn't mean she didn't still root for a happy ending. She didn't necessarily expect one, but if she got one, she certainly wasn't going to complain. And when it came to her older brother and Madeline O'Connell, Nasira wanted desperately for them to resolve their issues. She wanted desperately for them to go back to the way they were. She wanted her older brother to be happy, she wanted her close friend to be happy, she wanted Yasir to be happy, and hell – she even wanted Sameya to be happy. And the only way for all four of those people to be happy was for Madeline and Ardeth to stop being so stupid and start talking again.

They would not do it on their own, Nasira could see that now. Which meant it was up to her. She had to do something to motivate them. Ardeth would be difficult to motivate, she knew. Even the knowledge that he _had _to marry and soon – even the knowledge that he would have to marry a woman he barely knew and certainly did not love – _could_ not love… that knowledge did nothing to make him talk to his ex-lover. He was too hurt. Nasira supposed that was understandable. She still felt he was acting like a little girl, but she understood why.

As for Madeline, she was a different story. Nasira knew she would be difficult to motivate as well, but she had higher hopes for positive results. She decided to focus first on Madeline.

But how? How to make her talk? Madeline wasn't very good at talking – especially not with Ardeth. Nasira stared off into the distance at the black tents and the few sparse trees around the watering hole along the horizon, blurry in the haze from the desert heat. As they drew nearer to camp, Nasira began to formulate a plan.

At the camp, there were other people to introduce into the mix. Aunt Baheera, for one. She'd set a few of Madeline's misconceptions about the Med-jai straight. There were few women out there rougher than Madeline – but Baheera Yazan was definitely one of those women.

There was also Sameya Al Tufayl. The corner of Nasira's mouth drew upwards into a sly smirk as Ardeth's intended crossed her mind. There was nothing to motivate a body like good old fashioned jealousy.

* * *


	9. It Comes to a Head

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion pictures _The Mummy_ or _The Mummy Returns_, or even _The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to kaytieorndorff, IKeepGoldFishInMyBra, SingingintheRain1989, Fairy Skull, midnight-flurry, benzene, YueMichiruNaragisawaMiko, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, bringmetheangie, TheDevilsVendetta, WhiteInnocence, Padme400, Faerex, winged-karma, pirate hero, thatredheadedchick, evilspoofauthor1Sven, xdanishxpastryx, and The-Lady-Isis for all the reviews!!!

Sorry for the huge wait, you guys! If you read my profile page, you knew about my computer issues… (tears) …and I just couldn't bring myself to rewrite over five pages of this chapter! So I waited for my computer to be returned… and it was, after many millennia. Seriously, one week does not equal four! Anyway, thanks for your patience, and enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chapter 9: It Comes to a Head

Madeline wiped her sweaty forehead on her dark gray sleeve, wondering all the while why she hadn't chosen a lighter color shirt for this adventure. She and the other members of the small rescue party had reached the Med-jai campsite at long last and were now moving quickly towards one of the large black tents.

As they walked, Rick and Ardeth discussed plans for the trip to Karnak. Ardeth was promising them horses to take them into the nearest town, where Rick had a car waiting. From there, they would track down Rick's pilot friend and convince him to help. Meanwhile, Ardeth had to hold a meeting with the council of commanders and explain what had occurred in London. He would meet them at Izzy's.

Izzy was a dark skinned Brit that Rick had known in the army. He had been given a dishonorable discharge for… well, Madeline had never really gotten all the details. Knowing Izzy, she could guess. After Rick left the army, he and Izzy had often shared one too many a drink with Mad Dog… and Rick and Izzy had often concocted harebrained schemes that almost always ended with law enforcement officials and occasionally even Izzy getting himself shot.

He was so _not_ going to be happy to see them again.

"Come," Nasira said suddenly into Madeline's ear, tugging on her shirt sleeve. "There is someone I would like you to meet."

Madeline didn't get a chance to reply before Nasira was dragging her towards one of the large black tents. "Whoa, Nasira, hold your horses," Madeline said, although neither one of them stopped moving. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

"I want you to meet my aunt," Nasira explained, still yanking Madeline through camp. "Baheera Yazan. She was my mother's younger sister."

Madeline blinked, surprised but flattered. "You want me to meet your aunt?"

Nasira nodded vigorously. "You'll love her. She was a warrior when she was younger."

"Really?" Madeline asked, still allowing Nasira to yank her around. She couldn't help but be surprised. After seeing firsthand the resistance of Nasira's older brothers against her becoming a warrior, Madeline had just assumed that Med-jai women weren't welcome on the battlefield. In fact, a small part of her had envisioned Nasira as the first of her kind.

"Yes," Nasira replied, nodding again. "It sort of runs in the family."

Madeline frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there have been other female warriors before me," Nasira explained. "And a lot of them were members of my family. Aunt Baheera, for one. And there were others; distant cousins and such. My great-great grandmother was the first female commander."

Madeline blinked, absorbing this information. "Really?"

Nasira shrugged. "At least, we think she was. She was the first on record. There may have been earlier ones, but that was before we began writing things down."

Again, Madeline blinked. She was starting to feel like she was in a Med-jai history class at the university or something. "Oh," was all she said.

They had reached the tent in question, and Nasira flung back the long black flap covering the entrance. "Aunt Baheera?" she called.

"Is that my favorite niece?" another woman's voice sounded from within.

"It is your only niece," Nasira returned, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know. What are you doing still outside? Get in here! Tell me all about London!"

Nasira stepped inside the tent, still holding up the flap, and motioned at Madeline to follow. Madeline did as commanded, and instantly found herself blinking furiously as her eyes adjusted to the sudden dimness of the tent. Nasira let the flap drop and led the way deeper inside.

From behind another flap that separated the tent into two rooms, a petite, older woman ducked out to greet them. She looked up at Madeline in surprise.

"Well, who is this?" she asked.

"This is my friend from the States," Nasira replied. "Or rather, London. Madeline O'Connell. Madeline, this is my aunt, Baheera Yazan."

"Just call me Baheera," the woman was quick to say. She gave Madeline an appraising look. Shifting uncomfortably under the woman's hawk-eyed gaze, Madeline eyed her in return. Baheera Yazan had long, salt and pepper hair and faint laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. She hadn't taken the time to cover either her face or her hair. She was petite, like Nasira, and bore a striking resemblance to the young woman – except for her eyes. Baheera's gold hawk eyes matched instead Nasira's brother, Yasir.

However, Madeline found Baheera's gold-brown eyes to be far less fierce and calculating than she'd first thought. Instead of looking unfriendly, her eyes brimmed with laughter.

"Well, Miss O'Connell," Baheera announced. "I must say, I've heard much about you."

"You can just call me Madeline," she replied. "Miss O'Connell sounds like… well, it doesn't sound like me, I can tell you that much."

"Very well, then," Baheera returned, smiling. "Madeline it is. You two sit down. I'll get water."

She headed to the corner of the canvas room, and lifted two clay jugs, shaking them to see which was fuller. Then she lifted the cover off one jug, stuck a ladle in it, and brought it back to the two younger women.

"So," she said, sitting beside them. "How was London?"

"They have the bracelet," Nasira replied glumly.

Baheera's eyes flashed. "What?"

"At first, it was safe – well, relatively so," Nasira explained. "The only drawback was that Madeline's nephew, Alex, had put the bracelet on his wrist when no one was watching him."

"That is Rick and Evelyn's son?" Baheera asked.

Nasira nodded. "Yes. The bracelet allowed him to wear it. And now…"

"The resurrection of the Scorpion King has begun," Baheera finished, shaking her head slowly. Her eyes were fixed on an undeterminable spot on the dirt floor, and they bore a far-away and haunted look.

"Worse still…."

"As though that weren't bad enough."

"Yes, but Lock'nah and his men have taken Alex into the desert," Nasira said quickly. "If we do not find them and return the boy to his parents…"

"Then they will do all in their power to ensure that the armies of Anubis arise," Baheera interrupted. "Yes, I know."

"There is more," Nasira informed her. "They have awakened the Creature. Imhotep walks among us once more, and he has agreed to be their champion."

Baheera shook her head, her hand going to her breast. "In all my years, I had not expected to see the Creature awaken even once," she announced. "And now I have lived through his resurrection twice."

She shook her head again. "It is this age," she fairly spat. "The world keeps changing, and its pace quickens every step of the way. The Med-jai can no longer keep up."

"We must change with it," Nasira replied. "It is the only way to ensure our survival and continued success."

"But who will listen to this reason?" Baheera retorted. "Ardeth can only do so much to facilitate change – and it doesn't help that he too is wary of the necessary transformations. And with the council of commanders constantly butting heads with him…" She trailed off, sighing heavily. "Old men run the Med-jai confederation, Nasira, and they are stuck in their ways as all old men are."

"We have changed before," Nasira pointed out. "During the Muslim conquest of the Byzantines, for one example. And after seeing the weapons of the Great War, we advanced our artillery. We can keep up if we try."

Madeline did not feel like a part of the conversation between Nasira and her aunt one bit. In fact, she had no idea what they were talking about. "What happened during the Byzantine empire?" she asked.

Nasira looked up in surprise, and then seemed to realize that Madeline was an outsider. "During the middle ages, Muslim tribes conquered the areas that the Med-jai populate," she explained. "In order to continue protecting our treasures with as little interference as possible, we adopted many of their customs and claimed allegiance to their god. However, we continued to worship the ancient ones in secret. Even today, though much of the Muslims' culture is now ingrained in our society, we continue to preserve the ancient ways. Our true faith lies with the old gods. It is their power we see every day. More specifically, many of our customs have carried over from ancient times – and many of our Muslim customs are simply for show."

Madeline nodded, trying to absorb the miniature history lesson. "Right."

"So what is the plan now?" Baheera asked her niece.

"Ardeth is meeting with the council," Nasira replied. "We will give horses to the O'Connells and I will accompany them to the nearest city. They have transportation waiting there to take us to Magic Carpet Airways."

Baheera frowned. "What?"

"It is owned by an old friend of Rick's," Nasira shrugged. "He was a pilot in the Great War."

Baheera shrugged as well. "As you Americans say, whatever."

Madeline smiled rather uncertainly at the older woman.

"This pilot will take us to Karnak," Nasira finished. "Where hopefully Alex O'Connell and the Red Scarves will be waiting."

"Hopefully," Baheera echoed. "And if they are not?"

Nasira winced, looking in Madeline's direction.

"Alex is a smart kid," Madeline said. "I'm sure if they're gone by the time we reach Karnak, he'll have found some way to let us know where he is."

Baheera snorted. "A lot of faith to put in a scared eight year old boy."

Madeline chuckled. Both Nasira and her aunt gave her surprised looks, but Madeline couldn't help herself. "Alex is no ordinary eight year old boy."

Silence descended on the tent. "Has Ardeth called a council meeting?" Baheera asked after a long pause.

"He was in the process of doing so," Nasira replied. "I doubt the meeting is under way yet."

"Well, let us go out and see," Baheera said, her tone decisive. "I'd like a hello, at the very least.

The two Med-jai women got to their feet swiftly, with the grace and agility expected of two warriors. Madeline set the water jug down on the ground as gently as possible and stood up as well, feeling too large and extremely awkward in their presence. Both women were much shorter than her, and while they were also muscular, their muscles seemed to fit their bodies much better than hers.

Nasira led the way out of the tent, and Madeline ducked out behind her, starting to feel just a little too cramped up in the small space. Out in the sun, she took a deep breath, instantly feeling as though she could breathe better. Baheera stepped outside directly behind her.

They didn't leave the vicinity of the tent, and at first Madeline wondered why… until she saw that Nasira was staring intently at a small group of people conversing in front of the next tent down. Madeline followed her gaze. Standing about five feet out into the path were Ardeth and his brother Yasir, the two of which were talking with an elderly, stooped over gentlemen, and a beautiful young woman who had to be his daughter.

Madeline knew the woman was beautiful even if she couldn't see most of her face. The girl's long, shiny black hair was poking out of her head covering, and in the sunlight it looked more blue than black. They were close enough for Madeline to see that the woman had large, dark green eyes – beautiful and rare dark green eyes. She was short and slim, more petite even than Nasira, and it was obvious from the demure way she stood and the delicateness of her visible features that whoever this woman was, she was the real-life equivalent of a fairy princess.

For some stupid, not entirely conscious reason, Madeline felt a strange and jealous prickle at the base of her neck. "Who are they?" she asked.

"The Al Tufayls," Nasira murmured ruefully. "Sharaf was a noble warrior. High ranking. Well respected. He is retired now, of course."

"That his daughter?"

Nasira nodded gravely. "Yes. Her name is Sameya."

"Supposedly the beauty of the tribe," Baheera huffed.

"She _is_ very beautiful," Nasira returned, glancing at her aunt.

"You're much prettier," Baheera all but snapped at her niece, her voice vibrating with furious familial pride.

"He's on the council?" Madeline asked, although she already knew the answer would be no. Her stomach began sinking at a rapid pace.

Nasira shook her head. "No. They must be discussing something else."

"Of course they are," Baheera snorted. She glanced in Madeline's direction. "Sameya is Ardeth's intended."

Her stomach abruptly stopped its descent, hitting rock bottom.

"Ardeth… she's his… that's his fiancé?" she asked, trying and failing miserably not to stutter.

Nasira shot her a short, sideways look. It was almost sly. "Yes," she said. "Ardeth is expected to marry Sameya soon."

It was an absolutely ridiculous and unfathomable reaction, but Madeline was hurt and heartbroken all the same. She had done the leaving – she knew this. She always had and always would maintain that her decision had been for the best, no matter how badly it had hurt her or Ardeth. More importantly, she had always known he would move on. She had expected it; she had known he would have to. And yet, to find that he had – that he was engaged – it was a shock. Because no matter what the circumstances, no matter how necessary the moving on, ex-lovers always secretly hope that the ones they leave will pine after them forever.

Apparently, it was Madeline who was doomed to do the pining. Ardeth had already replaced her with a beautiful, tiny, and meek little woman. Even without speaking to the new fiancé, Madeline could already tell they were polar opposites. And she felt that choice keenly, knowing it had to have been purposeful.

But why was she so surprised? She had always known she was all wrong for the Med-jai chieftain.

Nasira began moving swiftly in the direction of the other four people. Madeline did not want to go over there – not one bit – but Baheera was right behind her niece, and Madeline found she had no choice but to follow. Yasir looked up at their approach and seemingly excused himself, heading in the opposite direction of the three women. Madeline supposed his hasty departure was her fault – she had never been a favorite of Yasir's – but she didn't feel the least bit hurt at the snub. In fact, she was relieved she wouldn't have to deal with the dark looks and disapproving comments of Ardeth's younger brother.

The Al Tufayls did not move. This didn't stop Baheera from crying out as she stepped forward to envelope her nephew in a hug. Ardeth's shoulders tensed momentarily, but that soon passed and he hugged her back. When they parted, he bestowed upon his aunt a warm smile.

"I am glad to see you in one piece," Baheera informed him. "Nasira has been telling me all about your adventures."

"My failures, you mean," Ardeth smirked. He said it as though it were a joke – but Madeline knew he didn't mean it that way.

Baheera knew it too, apparently, and she smacked her nephew in the chest. "Don't you dare say that," she snapped. "Failures my left eye! As if my nephew could fail."

"I begin to understand why my cousin's ego is impossible to deflate," Ardeth replied, smirking wider.

Baheera was clearly fighting a smile of her own. "Ma'sud should have an ego. I _am_ his mother."

Nasira giggled in an unexpected girlish way. Madeline smiled too, the sound of Nasira's tinkling laughter bringing back happier memories of the other woman – memories of who Nasira had been before battle had so transformed her.

Sameya smiled. Madeline could tell by the way the corners of her dark green eyes lifted up ever so slightly. It was hard not to stare. Her eyes really were gorgeous.

Madeline hated her.

"Your aunt is right," the old man called Sharaf spoke up. "It was no failure on your part, Chieftain. If the boy wears the bracelet, then it was fated – and no one could have altered our current course."

Baheera inclined her head respectfully in Sharaf's direction. Ardeth spared a rare smile for the man. Madeline desperately wanted to hate him – she wanted to hate every Al Tufayl that had ever walked the earth – but found that she couldn't.

"Might I be so bold as to inquire of your acquaintance, Chieftain?" Sharaf asked next, nodding in Madeline's direction.

Ardeth glanced at her. A stranger might not have noticed the discomfort that flickered across his face, but Madeline saw it at once. So he was embarrassed to introduce his ex to his new fiancé, was he? Madeline had no sympathy for him.

"This is Madeline O'Connell," he introduced her, not sparing a second look her way. "The boy's aunt."

"I remember that name," Sharaf spoke up, recognition lighting up his eyes. He did not share his daughter's beautiful brown and green marbles; his eyes were squinted with old age and the color of coal. "Didn't you help us once before?"

"She and her brother assisted us during the Creature's first resurrection," Ardeth explained shortly.

"Yes," the man nodded. "I suppose that must be it. Here to help us again?"

Madeline had a sudden urge to be uncommonly friendly. That would show Ardeth; if she seemed unbothered by meeting his future wife and father-in-law. "I guess so," she replied, smiling brightly. "Although honestly, I think of it as more 'cleaning up my family's mess.' After all, this only happened because no one was keeping an eye on my nephew. He's a very… inquisitive kid."

Sharaf smiled slightly. "Like his mother."

"Yeah," Madeline agreed, giving him a rueful grin. "Exactly."

"There is no wrong in being inquisitive," Sharaf said. "But there are certain things one just does not touch."

"You can say that again," Madeline agreed. "But they never listen to me."

"You must be very brave," a small, shy voice spoke up. Madeline looked in Sameya's direction and found the young woman smiling at her. It was a sweet, friendly smile, and Madeline didn't need to see her mouth to feel its warmth.

Great. It was going to be impossible to hate her.

"I wouldn't say that," Madeline replied, smiling back.

"I would," Sameya said, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked to the ground. "I don't know if I would have your courage; to face such things as the Creature…"

Sameya trailed off and shuddered.

"Yes," Nasira said. Madeline was surprised at the dry, annoyed tone to the other woman's voice. "Not everyone has the ability to face such dangers."

Ardeth sent his sister a warning look. Sameya smiled again. "I am sure I am one without such ability," she replied. "I must admire you, Nasira, and you, Miss O'Connell."

"Please don't admire me," Madeline said quickly. She could feel her face starting to flush. Why the hell did this girl have to be so unbelievably sweet?

Sameya laughed very softly. "I will try to not to make it obvious."

"Well, it was nice meeting you," Sharaf spoke again, nodding at Madeline. "Come Sameya. Our Chieftain has things to be doing."

Sameya nodded. "Yes," she agreed. She smiled again at Madeline. "I am also glad to have met you."

Sharaf limped the five feet to his tent. Sameya followed her father inside. Madeline clenched her fists at her sides, watching them leave. This was simply awful. There was no way she could compete with that woman – and damn it, now she couldn't even hate her!

"When is the council meeting?" Baheera asked her nephew.

"Soon," Ardeth replied. "Yasir is sending out the message."

Baheera sighed. "A sad message. There will be a panic."

"Perhaps there should be."

"Panic helps no one," Baheera returned. "I… I had best prepare some sort of meal for the council members."

"Thank you, aunt."

Baheera nodded and walked back towards her tent, disappearing within.

"What do you need of me?" Nasira asked her brother.

"Help O'Connell," Ardeth returned. "The man knows guns, not horses."

Nasira nodded, and disappeared in the opposite direction Yasir had.

And that's how Madeline and Ardeth found themselves alone in one another's company.

They realized their predicament belatedly. Madeline felt her throat closing up in panic. They stood directly before one another, staring at one another, without making a sound.

Several long seconds passed… and then Ardeth cleared his throat and looked off in the direction his sister had disappeared. For some reason, Madeline panicked. If he just left… if he just walked away without a word… well, it was the worst thing he could do. It was just too horrible to comprehend.

"Your aunt seems… nice," she blurted out.

He blinked. She winced. Ardeth took a deep breath and focused his eyes on the sand beneath them. "She is a remarkable woman."

Madeline nodded. She shifted about uncomfortably. Ardeth looked up at the sky, squinting into the sun. "I am sorry," he announced. "For dragging your family into our problems once again."

"My family causes most of these problems," Madeline replied. "In case you haven't noticed. Let me tell you, I certainly have."

His lips twitched into what almost passed for a smile – and that was always a triumph when it came to Ardeth. Emboldened by the lip twitch, Madeline went on to say, "It's not your fault, all this… crap. I mean, my nephew… well, let's just say this won't be the last bracelet he puts on that he shouldn't have."

"He inherited that from his aunt," Ardeth returned. A small smirk was playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," Madeline replied, affecting insult. "Someone else put that thing on me."

And there it was: a full blown Ardeth smile. His white teeth shone out from behind his tanned jaw and dark beard, the skin crinkling around his large brown eyes.

"Yes, I know," he replied. "I have not forgotten."

They lapsed into silence. Madeline cast about for something else to say. Anything at all… so long as it didn't involve his bride-to-be. Anything but that.

"So I heard you're engaged."

Ardeth's head snapped to the side so he could look in her direction. His expression was startled. Madeline wanted to dig a hole and die in it. Was it too much to ask that once – just once, damn it – she didn't blurt out whatever stupid thing was floating around in her head?

It was all Ardeth's fault, really. His presence made her… stupid.

"Who told you that?" he practically demanded.

"Your aunt," she said quickly. "She said you were marrying that, uh… you were marrying Sameya Al Tufayl." She nodded towards the tent.

Ardeth didn't say anything.

"She looks nice," Madeline went on, trying all the while to stop. "Gorgeous, apparently. So they said. I mean, she looked gorgeous. _I _thought she was gorgeous. You know, even with that thing over her face."

Ardeth was staring at her. He didn't look happy. She didn't blame him. She was trying so hard to sound sincere, to sound unaffected… god, she was failing terribly, wasn't she?

"Congratulations," she said. Lame as it was, she had to end it there.

There was silence. Ardeth was still just staring at her, and it was making her nervous.

"I'm sure you'll be very happy together," Madeline spoke again, even though she had vowed not to. She tried to sound bright and happy, but even she could hear a small twinge of bitterness in her voice. "I mean, I hope you are. I do."

"Don't you dare," he growled, his brows drawing together in a dark, furious glower.

That murderous Med-jai expression was always enough to make one falter. Madeline blinked, unsure how to respond to his sudden rage. "I didn't do anything…"

"How dare you act hurt?" he snarled, stepping forward. Automatically she stepped back. "You are not the one who got hurt! I did not leave you!"

"I… I know you didn't. I… I didn't say…"

"I asked you to marry me," he hissed. "I wanted to marry you! And you said no."

Now she was angry. "I remember," Madeline snapped.

"So don't pretend to be the victim!" he snapped back. "_You_ left _me._"

There was a long silence. Madeline glared at him, feeling attacked but having no retort. Ardeth glowered in return. Finally, he turned to walk away.

"You know you don't have any right to treat me like that!" Madeline suddenly exploded. "I didn't do or say anything wrong! I'm trying to be civil! I _congratulated_ you!"

"As if you meant it."

"Of course I didn't mean it!" she snapped. "How could I? You think I like seeing you with her? You think I liked finding out you have a _fiancé_? You think it made me ten tons of happy to find out you were marrying the most beautiful girl in the world? God damn it, Ardeth, she's only supernatural! Not to mention quiet! And sweet! And… well behaved! I'm sure she's fertile too, and probably an excellent cook, and... and… and everything I'm not! So congratu-fucking-lations! I'm _trying_, ok? I'm trying, but it's not easy! You have to know it's not!"

There was another long silence. Ardeth simply stared at her. Madeline hated that stare. It made her feel completely stupid.

"I hope you and the fairy princess live happily ever after," Madeline spat finally. She needed to leave, and now. Rounding on her heel, she made to march off.

Ardeth spoke, effectively stopping her exit. "I am not engaged to Sameya Al Tufayl."

She turned around, shocked.

"Yet," he clarified.

Madeline felt the tiny stupid hope that had climbed inside her retreat.

"And if I do marry her, you can be sure I didn't choose her for myself," he informed her bitterly.

She frowned. "What?"

"The council appointed her as my fiancé. As chieftain, it's my duty to provide an heir. And in order to fulfill that duty, I must be married."

Madeline stared at him, unsure what to say. She settled for "Oh."

"I haven't found a wife on my own," Ardeth said, looking straight at her. "So they are doing it for me, whether I like it or not."

Madeline's frown reappeared. "Wait… so you don't want to marry her."

"I don't even know her," Ardeth spat. "Of course I don't want to marry her! How can I, when…"

He stopped himself. Half of Madeline wished he'd finished the sentence; the other half was glad he hadn't.

Ardeth stared at the ground for a moment. Madeline opened her mouth to speak, not yet sure what was going to come out. But Ardeth cut her off. He looked up quite suddenly from the sand, his dark eyes flashing angrily. "But I will," he said firmly. "I _will_ marry her. Because it is my duty. I have to. And so I will. I will marry her, and we will have lots of little children and my throne shall have an heir, and the council will be ecstatic. And I will be miserable."

She felt accused. She felt guilty of some horrible crime. Ardeth kept talking, hushing any attempt she might make to defend herself.

"We will both be miserable. Because what woman can be happily married when she knows her husband is not?"

They were quiet. Ardeth made to walk away. Madeline didn't attempt to stop him – but he stopped anyway.

"I suppose _you_ will be very happy," he said over his shoulder. "I suppose you will be satisfied knowing you saved me from a terrible fate. Marrying you – that would have been awful. It would have ruined me – a marriage and a life with the woman I loved."

Madeline lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Thank you," he told her. Then he really did walk away. And she was left standing in the pathway, staring at the dust on her boots, trying to ignore the tear forming in her eye.


	10. The Dirigible

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion pictures _The Mummy_ or _The Mummy Returns_, or even _The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to Trekkie Fan Marvel, forestreject, Like-Vines-We-Intertwine, Fairy Skull, WhiteInnocence, benzene, The Purple Wox, HazelEyedGirlTrappedInATower, Ravenclaw Samurai, SingingintheRain1989, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, , xdanishxpastryx, KurandRobgirl, Ashi-Eiketzu, Nelle07, The-Lady-Isis, IKeepGoldFishInMyBra, pirate hero, zentry, AlishaofTroy, Padme4000, kennyx, ferbear, Soldier of Passion, bringmetheangie, M*YP, tonidepp16, Gladishiva, midnight-flurry, MoonyMoonsault, Pirate College Graduate, JanuaryBaby192, Fang500, and winged-karma for all the reviews!!!

* * *

Chapter 10: The Dirigible

Nasira frowned at the building in front of her.

It wasn't much of a building, actually. It was more of a wall with huge doors that blocked off part of the outside world. Rick was marching towards these doors with hunched shoulders and a grim determined face. His wife and sister trailed close behind.

Jonathan was struggling to gather their bags from the yellow rental car, muttering under his breath about his brother-in-law absconding with his gold stick. Nasira rolled her eyes and moved forward without offering him a hand.

"Who is this Izzy?" she asked Madeline, falling into step beside her old friend.

"A cowardly opportunistic criminal who has been screwed over many times by my big brother," Madeline replied.

The answer caused Nasira to frown. "And he is going to help us?"

Madeline shrugged. "Or run like hell the minute he sees us."

"Suddenly, my concerns about the end of the world have strongly increased."

Madeline flashed a winning smile. Nasira drew no comfort from it.

She followed Madeline, Rick, and Evie towards the double doors. As they approached, one door suddenly swung open.

The man who stepped out into the bright desert sun was smiling with a set of very white, but very crooked teeth. He was older than Rick, with skin was so dark it was nearly ebony. He wore pilot's clothing and a patch over his left eye.

"Izzy!" Rick exclaimed.

Izzy jumped, startled. He took one look at Rick and the women accompanying him and then ran back inside, locking the door behind him.

Rick frowned. "Hey!"

Evie smirked. "He definitely remembers you."

Shaking her head, Nasira grasped the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "Allah help us," she murmured mostly to herself, her faith in Rick and his plans slowly dissipating.

Rick stepped forward, drawing one of his pistols. He took aim, and shot the lock clean off the door.

"Honey, you're not a subtle man," Evie murmured, shaking her head.

Rick shrugged. "We don't have time for subtle."

Then he kicked the doors open and marched on in.

Nasira, already unsettled by Izzy's reaction, was only put more ill at ease when the pilot practically ran across the open air compound and started snatching flight charts off a desk.

The man sleeping on top of the desk didn't even wake up.

"Whatever it is, what ever you need, I don't care! Forget it, O'Connell!" Izzy was shouting. "Every time I hook up with you, I get shot! Last time I got shot in the ass! I'm in mourning for my ass!"

Nasira sent an inquisitive look in Madeline's direction. Madeline just shook her head.

"You don't want to know."

"Remember that bank job in Marrakesh?" Izzy raved on.

"Bank job?" Evie repeated.

"It's not like it sounds," Rick defended himself.

"Uh, it's exactly like it sounds," Izzy interjected. "Am I right?"

He turned his one good eye on Madeline. Madeline shrugged.

"Yep," she said, popping the p.

"Thanks sis," Rick retorted.

"I'm flying high, hiding in the sun," Izzy explained, addressing Evie. "The white boy here flags me down, so I fly in low for the pickup. Next thing I know, I get shot! I'm lying in the middle of the road with my spleen hanging out, and I see _him_ waltzing up with some belly-dancer girl!"

"Belly dancer girl?" Evie asked. "Izzy, I think you and I should talk."

"As long as I don't get shot!"

"Don't worry, Evie," Madeline interjected. "It's not like it sounds. She turned out to be a man."

"Hey!" Rick snapped, turning on his sister. "You were supposed to take that to grave!"

Madeline shrugged again, wearing a mock-apologetic face. "Whoops."

The conversation between Izzy and Nasira's four companions was less than comforting. She took it all in with wide eyes and disbelieving ears. Shaking her head, Nasira took a deep breath in an attempt to settle her suddenly queasy stomach.

"This hardly seems promising," she murmured.

"Will everyone quit it?" Rick exclaimed, clearly irritated by this point. "Look, Izzy, this time you're getting paid. Here."

He tossed a wad of bills at the pilot. Izzy caught them and stared at them for a moment. Nasira didn't have to know him well to see he was torn between protecting his ass and making some cash.

"O'Connell, look around you," Izzy said finally, tucking the money into his shirt pocket. "What would I need money for? What the hell am I going to spend it on?"

"I'm going to keep this short," Rick replied in a dangerous tone of voice as he advanced on Izzy. He waved Jonathan's gold stick in the other man's face. "My little boy is out there, and I'll do whatever it takes to bring him back."

But Izzy was no longer listening to Rick's arguments. His eyes were fixed on the gold stick.

Rick noticed. He waved the stick around experimentally. Izzy's eyes followed, excited little peeps escaping his throat. Finally, licking his lips, Izzy said, "O'Connell, you give me that gold stick there and you can shave my head, wax my legs, and use me for a surfboard."

"Deal," Rick said, tossing Izzy the artifact. The one-eyed pilot caught the stick, grinning greedily.

Rick frowned suddenly. "Didn't we do that in Tripoli?"

"Ew," Madeline interjected.

"By the way," Rick asked Izzy. "How'd you lose the eye?"

To Nasira's amazement, Izzy chuckled. "Oh, I didn't," he replied, grinning as he lifted the patch up, revealing a perfect brown eye. "I just thought it made me look more dashing."

Rick wasn't amused. He yanked the patch off Izzy's face and threw it across the compound.

There was a loud _tseer! _Nasira turned her head in the direction of the hawk call, suddenly torn between excitement and fear. By the doors to the compound were twelve horsemen lined up in a long row, waiting orders from one tall, dark robed man. A hawk fluttered down from the clear blue sky and landed on the man's arm.

"I knew it," she heard Izzy mutter beside her. "I'm going to get shot."

Nasira picked up her pace, pulling ahead of the O'Connells. She raced towards her older brother as he hollered a goodbye that doubled as a battle cry. The men repeated it.

Then, in a loud rumble of hoof beats and an explosion of dust, the horsemen galloped away from the compound, headed back to their respective corners of the desert.

Reaching Ardeth's side, Nasira looked up hopefully into his face. The sight of her brother and the twelve commanders hadn't made her entirely easy about their journey, but it had taken some of the sting out of meeting Izzy – the man who they were practically dependent on when it came to finding Alex O'Connell and the Bracelet of Anubis. Ardeth nodded at her, stroking the feathers on top of Horus's head. He turned in the direction she'd come from, finding Rick, Evie, Madeline, Izzy, and Jonathan all staring at them.

"Those were the commanders of the twelve Med-jai tribes," he announced.

"Pet bird," Jonathan returned rather stupidly, gesturing at Horus with a grin.

"My best and most clever friend," Ardeth returned. Nasira wondered rather sourly if Jonathan even remembered Horus from their last adventure together. "He will keep the commanders informed of our progress so they can follow."

He didn't explain to the others why the commanders needed to follow. Nasira understood all too well, and from the looks on the rest of the party's faces, they understood too. Should the armies of Anubis arise, the Med-jai would be forced to stop them. The commanders would follow them to Ahm Shere due to necessity of war.

Silence fell over the group as they followed Izzy to his plane. At least, Nasira had been under the impression that Izzy piloted a plane. However, once they reached the so-called plane, Nasira found herself quickly reevaluating this assumption.

"Isn't she a beauty?" Izzy asked, waving his arm proudly in the direction of his aeronautical masterpiece.

Actually, she wasn't. She consisted of an old, dilapidated, wooden boat that was no longer by any stretch of the imagination seaworthy. Attached to this boat was a huge patchwork balloon that traveled the entire length of the old vessel. If it weren't for the fact that this balloon-slash-boat was already hovering three or four feet above the ground, held in place by bags of sand, Nasira would have never guessed it possible for the strange contraption to fly.

"It's a balloon!" Rick exploded.

"She's a dirigible," Izzy corrected him.

"What happened to your airplane?" Rick demanded.

Izzy scoffed. "Airplanes are a thing of the past."

Everyone stared at him. Finally, Rick announced, "Izzy, you were right."

"I was?" Izzy asked.

"Yeah," Rick said, drawing his gun. "You're going to get shot."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Izzy exclaimed, holding up his hands. "She's faster than she looks! And she's quiet… real quiet. Perfect for sneaking up on people, which is a very good thing."

He took a step closer to Rick and looked the ex-legionnaire in the eye. "Unless, of course, we go with your approach. Barging in face first, guns blazing, and getting your friend shot in the ass!"

And as much as Nasira really didn't like the looks of Izzy's dirigible, she had to admit, the man made a good point.

She glanced at the O'Connells. Evie seemed to agree with Izzy as well, judging from the look she was giving her husband. Rick conceded, shrugging almost sheepishly as he tucked his gun back in his holster.

Madeline eyed the balloon skeptically, making a comment Nasira didn't catch and nudging Jonathan in the side. Whatever she'd said gave Jonathan a good chuckle.

She glanced at Ardeth. All her brother said was, "Why can't you people ever keep your feet on the ground?"

But fears of heights and flight and incompetent pilots had to be pushed aside. Izzy and his dirigible were their only chance, and they had to take it.

* * *

They'd been in the air for hours. Madeline leaned against the side of the dirigible, watching the sun set behind the pyramids. The entire desert and the sky overhead had been painted a deep, dark red.

Izzy was at the wheel, singing incomprehensively. Evie was dozing against her husband's shoulder, and Rick was staring at the side of the dirigible, lost in thought – thoughts that were surely centered around Alex.

Jonathan, she noticed, was doing his damnedest to steal back his gold stick from Izzy, but so far had been unsuccessful. Ardeth and his sister had taken over an obscure corner of the dirigible and for most of the journey had been keeping to themselves.

Sighing, Madeline stared off across the desert. The plan had gone off pretty much the way she'd expected it to: Izzy had been hostile, Rick had been _more _hostile, Nasira had looked uneasy regarding the whole thing, and for the grand finale, Izzy had disappointed them.

A dirigible. They were actually flying across the desert in a race against time to find her nephew and his world-destroying bracelet in a glorified hot air balloon.

Nasira was right: they were doomed. Allah help them all.

It was faster than she'd expected it to be, and Izzy wasn't wrong about how quiet his dirigible was, but still. She had grave misgivings.

Although the dirigible had one advantage over a plane; she could walk around it and put as much distance between her and other certain people as she wanted to. Other certain people being, of course, a Med-jai chieftain that she hadn't spoken to since their argument back at the village.

And for that matter, other certain people could also include a Med-jai chieftain's younger sister who seemed dead set on telling Madeline things she didn't want to know.

"And what, pray tell, are you so intently looking at?"

Madeline jumped, looking over her shoulder to find the source of the voice. Jonathan had temporarily abandoned his quest for his gold stick and had joined her at the side of the dirigible.

"Nothing," she sighed, facing forward once again. "Just the sand and stuff."

"Well," Jonathan said, puffing air through his lips. "You're all cheer, I see."

She shrugged.

"Bee in your bonnet, old girl?"

"Nah."

There was a moment of silence.

"Well, bloody hell, woman, if you're going to lie to me, you can at least attempt to be convincing."

In spite of herself, Madeline felt her lips tug themselves into a small smile.

"There we go," Jonathan grinned. "Now tell me, Maddie m'dear. What seems to be the trouble?"

"There's no trouble," she replied. "Really."

They were quiet for a moment. Jonathan stared at her the whole time.

Finally, Madeline gave in, letting loose an aggravated sigh. "All right, fine. I just… Ardeth's engaged."

Jonathan blinked. "Beg pardon?"

"Can I just ask you something?" Madeline sighed. "If a man asks me to marry him, and I say no, and then I see him again four years later and he has a fiancé and I'm incredibly, sick-to-my-stomach jealous does that… does that mean… am I just a bad person?"

"Yes," Jonathan replied without hesitation.

Madeline stared at him, her mouth wide open.

He smirked. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"I have no right to feel this way, do I?"

"Of course you do," he returned, waving away her concerns. "Maybe you made your own bed and all that, but you _were_ in love with the man, whether you turned him down or not."

Madeline nodded slowly, looking down at the sand passing beneath their dirigible.

"Now what do you mean Ardeth's engaged?"

"Oh," Madeline looked up at him, startled. "Um… I just found out, back at the camp. A woman in his tribe… her name's Sameya Al Tufayl."

Jonathan blinked, his mouth wide open. "And he's _marrying_ her?"

Madeline shrugged.

"Why?"

"The council's making him," she explained. "I guess it's part of his duties as chieftain. He has to marry and produce an heir… you know, all that tribal monarchy crap."

"So… are they… well, I just don't bloody understand."

"What don't you bloody understand?"

"Any of it," Jonathan returned, shaking his head. "Did the council pick this Sameya chit, or…"

"She's not a chit, Jonathan," Madeline reprimanded him. "She's actually very nice. And pretty. And… everything one would want in a wife. Aka, she's the antithesis of me."

"So Ardeth picked her?"

"Um… well, no, I guess. I guess the council picked her because he hadn't picked anyone and…"

"He hasn't?"

"Well… no…"

"Because he wants you?"

Madeline sighed harshly. "Jonathan, please don't."

"Well, I'm just saying…"

"Don't just say! Look, whatever we had… however he feels… I fucked it all up. I hurt him, Jonathan. And I doubt he'll get past that. So… he's going to marry her, ok? And there's no use talking about it."

"Well, all right… if you say so…"

"I do say so. Besides, this is exactly what's supposed to happen. When I said no, and I left, I did it so he could marry someone else, someone who… who would be better for him… for the Med-jai. You know, a proper sort of queen."

"Right."

"Are you patronizing me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Jonathan," Madeline huffed, folding her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"You know, throughout our friendship together, I have watched you do an inordinate amount of bloody stupid things."

She frowned at her friend. "Well, right back at you!"

"But this is more than stupid," he pushed on. "You are literally giving yourself license to be perpetually miserable."

There was a long silence.

"There's really nothing I can do about it," Madeline said.

"Bullocks."

"There's nothing I want to do about it."

"Double bullocks!

"Oh, Jonathan, would you just leave me alone?"

"Fine, fine, have it your way."

Jonathan turned from the side of the dirigible and made his way back towards the steering wheel, undoubtedly in hopes of stealing back his gold stick.

"Personally, I'd love it if you did nothing," he said suddenly. "Personally, I'd love it if we saved the world and Alex to boot, and Ardeth married this Sameya chicklet, and you came home to England with me and Rick and Evie and the little pain in the arse, and we got to pal around London together for the rest of our lives. Make me bloody happy. Truth is, if you did marry the big bleeding Med-jai and vanished into the desert, I simply would not know what to do with myself. You are, after all, my best friend. My only real friend, actually, when you get right down to it."

"Yeah," she smirked at him. "I know it."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes at her.

Her smirk faded into a genuine smile. "Maybe I don't say it enough," she told him. "Maybe neither of us do. But you have to know that I feel the same way, Jonathan. You have to know that you're the closest friend I've ever had… just about the only friend I ever could count on. Hell… maybe you're the only friend I've ever had. And without you around, well… I don't really know what life would be like. Not entirely sure I want to know."

She half choked on the last word, feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks. Jonathan smiled almost shyly, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Yes, well, be that as it may… I happen to know that if you don't at least try to get Ardeth back, you're going to be very miserable and lovesick and… well, damn near insufferable, as a matter of fact."

"Jonathan…"

"No, no, I mean it. You claim you love the man, that you left him out of love, and all that other poncy romance stuff you're always spewing… well, Maddie, if you love him, maybe you ought to do something about it. After all, you've grown up a lot. You've stopped drinking, you've held a job for three years straight… and you've almost figured out what not to say in certain situations. Hell, give it another four years, and I bet you won't even say the things you shouldn't say in certain situations! You'll have complete one hundred percent control over your big mouth."

"Ha."

"Seriously, old girl. Four years ago, I grant you, you were not ready to marry anyone. You had a lot of… well, there were certain things you still needed to do for yourself. But now, well… now things have changed."

Madeline studied her friend, frowning at him. "You mean that?"

"Absolutely."

She smiled. "Thanks, Jonathan."

"Don't mention it."

He turned and walked over to the wheel, sitting himself down beside it. Madeline stared at him for a moment, not sure how to feel.

Jonathan's speech had rather felt like good-bye.

* * *

"I want him back, Rick. I want him in my arms."

"I know. We taught him well. He's smarter than you. He's tougher than me."

"I love him so much, I can't…"

"I'll get him back Evie. I promise."

"I know you will."

When Rick leaned over his wife's shoulder and she leaned back against him, primed for the kiss, Nasira turned away very quickly from the intimate sight and began walking towards the wheel.

Izzy and Jonathan were fighting over that damn gold stick again. Her brother was laughing at them. Madeline was leaning over the edge again, not paying attention to anyone.

She left the distressed lovers behind her, frowning at the three men she was swiftly approaching. The dirigible seemed, at the moment, to be playing host to some sort of universal cross-sectioning… the con artists, the thieves, the loving wedded couple, the stern warriors, the lost women, the lost _men_…

Nasira gave her head a shake, trying to shut off the romantic swirl of literary thoughts swimming in her head. She was trying to turn this doomed adventure into a novel again. She'd thought she'd outgrown that sort of thing.

She sat beside her brother, leaning against the side of the dirigible. Tilting her head up, she stared at the dark navy sky, absently eyeing the bright little pinpricks that served as stars. The same stars over the same desert that she saw everyday. They seemed of little consequence.

"Pretty night," Jonathan observed. "Nice looking stars, and all that."

"I suppose you're not used to stars," she returned smartly. "In your smoggy London. Perhaps the stars are hidden behind the glow of your streetlamps?"

Jonathan blinked at her. "Just making conversation," he defended himself. "No need to get defensive."

"Nasira," her brother murmured, making a show of petting Horus. She knew all too well that move served as a reprimand.

"I am sorry," she told Jonathan, through gritted teeth. "I did not mean to offend."

And she hadn't. Or had she? Nasira sighed, focusing on the sky again. She didn't want to be so rude to her friends, but it was as if she couldn't help it. The old fears returned.

Madeline sat down beside Jonathan. Nasira watched Ardeth visibly tense. He became incredibly interested in his bird.

Yes, an inexplicable and unhealthy attachment to his pet hawk was definitely the way out of this awkward situation.

As Nasira watched, Madeline glanced at Ardeth out of the corner of her eye and opened her mouth as though planning to say something. Moments later, she closed it back up without uttering a sound.

Allah take them all…

"Will you ask Sameya for her hand when we return?" Nasira asked Ardeth abruptly. "Or has the council so arranged it that trivial details like proposals are no longer necessary?"

Her brother glowered at her. Nasira blinked back, acting as innocent as she knew how.

"Well, Ardeth?" Jonathan asked. Nasira glanced at him in surprise. "I'm actually quite curious as to how this whole Med-jai marriage business shakes out."

Ardeth glared at Jonathan instead. Nasira spared a glance at Madeline, who was decidedly looking anywhere that wasn't her traveling companions.

Finally, realizing that no amount of dark glowering was going to quell the curious expectant looks that Nasira and Jonathan were giving him, Ardeth gave in with a heavy sigh. "There will have to be a formal proposal."

"Ah," Jonathan said, nodding slowly. Nasira had to hide her smirk with her hand. "I see. Now, let me get this straight. You have to marry someone, but the council has to pick the woman you marry."

"No," Nasira cut in before Ardeth could speak. "Ardeth can pick who he wants, but he waited too long to do it. So now, the council is doing it for him."

"Oh," Jonathan nodded again. He clapped Ardeth on the shoulder. "Bad luck, old pal."

"He still has time to make his decision," Nasira went on. "The council gave him until the end of the month."

"Well, that's good!" Jonathan exclaimed, grinning too brightly. He pounded Ardeth on the back again, much to the other man's displeasure. Nasira hid another smile. "So there's still time to pick the right woman, eh?"

Ardeth stared stonily at the floor. Horus chose this opportunity to abandon dirigible. "I have settled on the choice made by the council."

"Settled?" Jonathan repeated. "Well, that's no good – for you or the chippy."

"She's not a chippy," Madeline interjected.

Everyone stared at her.

Madeline swallowed, glancing nervously from face to face. "I, uh… I just meant that… that I met her, and she seemed nice… and not in any way chippy-like. And, uh… well that was… rude."

Everyone continued to stare.

"Excuse me," Madeline said, getting up and heading for the edge of the craft once again.

Nasira gave her brother a pointed look. Her pointed look, however, was wasted on him, as he refused to look in her direction.

"Anyway," Jonathan went on as though Madeline hadn't left. "As I was saying, you shouldn't _settle_ on a wife! Any marriage based on settlement is simply _doomed_! I say that…"

"What would you know about it?" Ardeth returned icily. "You who have never shown an interest in a woman beyond what she could do for you in a single night."

Jonathan blinked. "Well, that was a low blow."

"I need some air," Ardeth said, getting to his feet. He retreated to the edge of the dirigible as well, making sure to keep a large distance between himself and Madeline.

Jonathan sighed, shaking his head. "Well that didn't go well."

"I know," Nasira agreed glumly. "I wish the two of them were not so stubborn!"

"Stubborn?" Jonathan repeated. "I believe the word you're searching for is stupid, my dear."

Nasira couldn't contain a giggle at these words. "When you are right, you are right."

The two of them lapsed into silence.

"Say," Jonathan spoke up. "I know you and I seem to be having our differences lately, but seeing as the situation between your brother and my best pal seems to be the one thing we agree on…"

Nasira lit up, anticipating his next words. "Then perhaps we should join forces?"

He grinned. "Precisely."

Nasira smiled back, and extended her hand. "You've gained yourself a partner, Mr. Carnahan."

"Please, luv," he returned, shaking the hand. "You really need to keep calling me Jonathan."


	11. Three Sides of the Pyramid

The Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the motion pictures _The Mummy_ or _The Mummy Returns_, or even _The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor_. That's all you, Universal Studios. And I'm not going to profit off this story, so calm down. There's no reason to sue, and you all make too much money anyway. Vultures.

AN: Big thank yous to Pirate College Graduate, discompobilated, SingingintheRain1989, Fang500, Like-Vines-We-Intertwine, Gladishiva, The-Lady-Isis, caleb's babe, xdanishxpastryx, The Purple Wox, Ravenclaw Samurai, M*YP, WhiteInnocence, benzene, Nelle07, bringmetheangie, IKeepGoldfishInMyBra, tonidepp16, pirate hero, Read4Ever, zentry, FallenAngelLove, Dark Goddess 1487, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, and EastAngels2009 for all the reviews! And this one's for you, zentry!;) Sorry if you guys are feeling neglected... I got really inspired on my other fic, and this one kind of fell by the wayside... whoops. Thanks everyone!

* * *

Chapter 11: Three Sides of the Pyramid

"If a man does not embrace his past, he has no future."

Ardeth patted Horus on the head, setting the hawk down inside the dirigible. He glanced slyly at Richard O'Connell as he pretended to focus on his pet, looking to see what effect his words had had on the ex-legionnaire.

Rick looked up skeptically from the pistol he was cleaning with his penknife. "Even _if_ I was some sort of sacred Med-jai, what good does that do me now?"

"It is the missing piece of your heart. If you embrace it, if you accept it… there is nothing you can't do."

"Sounds great." From Rick's tone, Ardeth gathered his argument was less than persuasive. "Tell me, what can we expect from our old friend Imhotep?"

Ardeth looked away from the other man. "His powers are returning quickly," he said. "By the time he reaches Ahm Shere, even the Scorpion King will not be able to stop him."

Rick sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ardeth had no words of his comfort for his friend. He had his doubts that the Creature could be stopped this time around. He always had his doubts.

It was against his nature to sit by and do nothing, no matter what the circumstance. No matter how hopeless the cause. And so, Ardeth was floating along in this miserable contraption called a dirigible, fighting air-sickness, and fighting back against the doom sure to befall mankind.

Ardeth sighed. At this point, nothing really seemed to matter anymore. All the worries amongst his tribesmen, his impending marriage to the Al Tufayl girl, the fate of Alex O'Connell… his angry words with Madeline… none of that seemed important now. He hated to feel that way, but he did. What did it matter if he married and produced an heir? The world would end before his heir could be born – it might even end before his heir could be conceived. If the world ended, it wouldn't matter if Rick got his son back… he wouldn't live to be reunited with the boy for longer than sixty seconds.

He could die without telling the woman he loved exactly what he'd waited four years to tell her, and it still wouldn't matter. The world would end; he would be dead.

Ardeth was no fool. He was not imperceptive. In fact, he was every bit as perceptive as his younger sister. Nasira was known amongst those closest to her as the one who could not be fooled, who could not be tricked… she picked up on every subtlety, knew every secret without being told.

Ardeth was not bullheaded, not like Yasir. He could sense the feelings, thoughts, and worries of those around him fairly easily… but unlike his sister, he often chose not to comment.

So he knew that Jonathan and Nasira were stirring the pot. He knew the two of them were trying to fix things between him and Madeline. And honestly, Ardeth couldn't see the point.

He couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. They were all going to die. The world was going to end. He wasn't even all that concerned about going down in Med-jai history as the one chieftain responsible for the end… there would be no history after this.

It seemed pointless to get his feathers ruffled.

And yet, his feathers had been ruffled. Madeline's words back at camp, seeing her at the O'Connell manor… during quiet times like this one on the dirigible he knew it was all for nothing, but in those small moments he could almost be driven to passion.

Seeing Rick's tattoo, learning about Madeline's… he could almost be excited. Two Med-jai, out on their own, raised apart from their people, destined to protect the ancient secrets of the pharaohs… it reeked of hope. It spoke to him of fate – or as his little sister might say, a way out.

So in spite of everything – the doom, the hopelessness, the certainty of tragedy – Ardeth tried to talk sense into O'Connell. He tried to make Rick see what his markings could mean.

So far, it wasn't going so well. Ardeth had to wonder what Madeline's marking meant, whether she would be easier to convince… but he didn't wonder enough to confront her on his own.

He couldn't even bring himself to charge Nasira with that duty.

* * *

"I hear you bear the mark of the Med-jai."

Madeline looked up from where she'd been sulking by the railing. Another day had passed on board the dirigible, and the sun was setting once again. The dirigible had flown straight into heavy fog, which was hardly comforting. They were closer than ever to Karnak, and most likely farther away from her nephew.

Nasira had joined her at the edge, and was studying her curiously. Madeline frowned.

"What the hell is the mark of the Med-jai?"

Nasira smirked slightly. "You have a tattoo," she clarified. "Where is it?"

Madeline gawked at the other woman. "Who told you about my tattoo?" she demanded.

The young warrior shrugged. "Your brother."

Before replying, Madeline sent a dark glower in her brother's direction. He was sitting not even five feet away from them but, typically, Rick didn't even look up.

Sighing, Madeline returned her attention to Nasira. "Yeah, I have a tattoo," she said. "It's on the back of my neck."

"Can I see it?" Nasira asked eagerly.

Madeline frowned at her again. "Why the hell would you want to do that?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I?"

Madeline raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "All right, fine."

She turned her back on Nasira, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. Then she folded her shirt collar down flat against her back.

Nasira leaned closer. Madeline could feel her eyes on her neck. Starting to get uncomfortable, Madeline resorted to what she did best; she began to babble.

"It's just some weirdo Egyptian crap," she said. "Rick's got one too… well, I suppose he told you that. We got them in an orphanage in Cairo. Later, I felt all weird about it… people kept making comments, and I started thinking maybe it was, like, offensive to real Egyptians… I mean, I don't even know what it means, so… so I grew my hair out. You know, so my hair would cover it. I just thought, um… are you done back there?"

"Yes," Nasira replied evenly. "I am quite finished."

"Good," Madeline breathed in relief. She fixed her collar and let her ponytail bounce back to its original position. "Um… see anything interesting?"

"Yes," Nasira returned. "Your tattoo is very interesting."

Nasira didn't seem inclined to comment further. Madeline tried to let the subject drop, but her curiosity got the best of her. She fidgeted a little, fighting the urge to say anything else, until another question simply popped out of her mouth.

"Why?"

Nasira raised an eyebrow at her. "It is the mark of the Med-jai," she returned. "Just like your brother's."

"Oh," Madeline said, nodding. "Neat."

There was a long silence.

"So, uh… what the hell does that mean?"

Nasira smiled. "It means you are one of us," she said. "A warrior for the gods. Destined to fight evil and protect the secrets of the ancients."

Madeline crinkled up her brow and her nose in incredulity. "What now?"

"You are a Med-jai," Nasira replied. "Only a Med-jai can wear this mark."

"But I'm not a Med-jai," Madeline returned. "I mean… how can I… is this going to get me killed?"

Her friend laughed. "Hardly."

"But you said…"

"You couldn't wear it if you weren't meant to," Nasira explained. "Only a Med-jai can give this mark to you… and no Med-jai may do so unless he or she knows you are meant to wear it."

"But how would…"

"Who gave you the mark?"

"Um… well… I don't really know…"

"You don't know?"

"Well, it was a long time ago, and I don't really have the best memory…"

"You must remember! What did he look like?"

"Does it really matter?"

Nasira crinkled up her eyes and leveled Madeline with a suspicious, appraising stare. "Why are you and your brother so reluctant to discuss the marks?"

Madeline blinked. "We're not… I'm not…"

"What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"Yes, you are."

"Are you kidding me? Come on, Nasira… what would _I_ hide?"

"I'm not sure," she murmured, still eyeing Madeline. "But you are hiding something; that I know."

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

"What is it you're trying to tell me?" Madeline asked. "Why is my tattoo so important?"

"It means you are a champion for the gods," Nasira returned. "It means you have a destiny. If you accept that, well… it could mean any number of things."

"What do _you_ think it means?"

"Honestly?" Nasira shrugged. "I don't know. I might have a better idea if you'd tell me a little more about how that mark came to be on you neck…."

Madeline looked away.

"But since you can't 'remember' anything helpful, then I'm not sure what the mark might mean for you."

For a little while, Madeline didn't say anything. "So… I have some sort of sacred Med-jai related destiny?"

Nasira shrugged. "Perhaps," she said. "I'm sure Ardeth would think so. As for me… well, once upon a time, I was a true believer in destiny. Not so many years ago, I had complete faith in the concept of fate. But now…"

She trailed off, shrugging again. "Now, I am not so sure. We all have duties, yes. I suppose we must be here for a reason, or else why would we… I don't know. I'll be honest, Madeline. I'm not so sure I believe in destiny anymore."

Madeline stared at her. "Careful, now," she joked. "You're starting to sound like me."

Nasira smiled sadly. "Apparently, I'm also starting to sound like Yasir," she said. "And he was the one person I was planning to _never_ become."

"You're not Yasir," Madeline told her firmly. "And even if you were, there are worst things you could be."

"You hate Yasir."

"I do hate Yasir," Madeline agreed. "But there are still worse things you could be."

Nasira looked at her. "Whether destiny exists or not," she said. "You still bear the sacred mark of our tribe. And that means you are one of us, whether we like it or not. And _that_ means you can no longer worry about fitting in among us. You are no longer an outsider."

"Technically, I'm still an outsider…"

"But you are one of us, in a small way. And that counts for something. You can no longer use our heritage as an excuse not to be happy. We must accept you. And believe it or not, you might just find we'll accept you willingly."

"I don't believe it."

"Should that matter? A warrior fights for what they believe in. So what do you believe in?"

"I… I don't… I don't really know…"

"Well, figure it out."

With that, Nasira walked away.

Which left Madeline to wonder, what exactly _did_ she believe in, anyway?

"_Evie!!"_

Madeline turned towards the sound of her brother's horrified scream just in time to watch Evie spring-dive over the side of the dirigible.

She was running before she knew it. Her brother dove after his wife, catching her by the ankle. His wrist caught the flimsy rope tied around the outside edge of the dirigible. Madeline reached him at the same time Ardeth, Nasira and Jonathan did.

Izzy didn't move, but Madeline chose not to hold it against him. He _was_ steering this boat, after all.

Madeline gripped her brother's forearm. Jonathan, beside her, reached down as low as he could and grabbed her brother's bicep. Ardeth bent almost in half to wrap an arm around Rick's chest. His sister entangled herself in the ballasts, gripping Ardeth by his free arm to brace him against the craft.

"Careful!" she heard Izzy bellow from the wheel. "Don't capsize her now!"

"On the count of three," Ardeth ordered. "One… two… three!"

All four of them pulled. Groaning and stumbling, they hauled Rick back over the side. All of them landed in a heap, with Evie still dangling.

Rick was on his knees instantly, yanking his wife in after him. She collapsed against him, and he fell backwards on his rear.

For a moment, everyone lay strewn about the deck, gasping for air. Then Rick turned incredulous eyes on Evie and asked the question that was on everyone's minds.

"Evelyn!" he exclaimed. "What the hell was that?"

Madeline was almost afraid to hear the answer. Evie had always been the capable and level-headed sort. Her son might be missing and all, but for her to actually attempt suicide… it didn't sound like her in the slightest.

She looked at them all, still gasping. Her eyes were wider than any of theirs. "I've had a vision!" she announced.

Everyone stared at her. "A vision?" Rick repeated skeptically.

Evie nodded furiously. "Yes, yes, a vision! I've had another vision of ancient Egypt!"

"Another one?" Madeline asked.

"Well, I told you, didn't I? All those dreams…"

"Were just dreams," Rick cut her off.

Evie shivered. "They were _not_."

She sounded very cross. She looked very cross. Yet anyone could see she was shaken up.

"I could use a cup of tea," she said.

Rick looked at Madeline.

"I have to do it?" Madeline asked.

"Please?" Evie pleaded.

Madeline sighed. "All right, I'll… try and figure this open fire, tea-making business out."

She led the way to the small fire Rick had rigged up in the makeshift fire pit by the steering wheel. It was actually an old pot that had been bolted down to the deck, but, well… when it works, it works.

Madeline hung a kettle over the flames to start the water boiling. Rick sat Evie down at the fire. Ardeth took a seat on the other side of the shaken archaeologist as Rick rubbed her back comfortingly.

"So, uh… what was this vision exactly?" Madeline asked.

Everyone turned to Evie. She shook her head.

"First, tea," she said. "Then the story."

* * *

Nasira struggled to her feet as Madeline, Ardeth, Rick, and Evie headed for the fire pit. Cussing under her breath, she tried unsuccessfully to disentangle herself from the ballasts.

Jonathan stood still a moment, watching her as she tried to break free. She seemed oblivious to his presence.

At least, she was oblivious until he started to chuckle.

Instantly she stopped her struggles, looking up at him with fury in her dark eyes. "What is so funny?" she snapped.

"Sorry," Jonathan apologized, holding up his hands. Unfortunately, he wasn't very sorry at all, and it came across in his tone. "You know, for a nice Med-jai girl, you sure seem to curse an awful lot. Why, if I spoke Arabic, I bet listening to you would turn my ears beet red."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "For a nice Med-jai girl, I sure stab, shoot, and decapitate an awful lot of large, full grown men," Nasira retorted. "Excuse me if over the years I have lost my delicate, feminine manners."

The last three words came out in a scornful sneer. Jonathan whistled, holding up his hands once again. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You know, Ardeth's killed just as many men as you, I wager, and he certainly isn't jumping down my throat every ten seconds."

"Ardeth is different," Nasira returned. "He likes you. For some reason."

Indignant, Jonathan huffed at her. "Well, how do you like that?" he rejoined. "See if I help _you_ out of those ropes."

He crossed his arms, turning away from her. In reality, he wasn't all that offended. Madeline had made worse jests at him than that, and all in the name of good fun. However, he wasn't going to let Nasira get away with this high and mighty warrior's attitude she'd seemed to have developed over the past four years. She'd been such a sweet girl, after all. A true romantic. He'd grown rather fond of that side of her.

Not so much of this new side of her, however. This new side of her was rather grating on the nerves, as a matter of fact.

He heard her struggling with the ballasts behind him, still cursing in her native tongue. In spite of himself, Jonathan smirked.

Finally, Nasira sighed. "Fine," she said. "I am sorry I mistreated you. Now, will you help me?"

"I don't know," Jonathan returned. "I'm not sure I've forgiven you quite yet."

There was a long silence. Nasira sighed again. "Jonathan…"

His name escaped her lips in a low, warning rumble. Jonathan leapt into action, bounding to her side and quickly assisting her with the ballasts.

Between the two of them, the work was done quickly. They disentangled her arms and torso from the ropes, and moved on to her legs.

"However did you manage this?" Jonathan asked, getting rather irritated.

"It was to save your brother in law," Nasira sniped. "I was the only one with the presence of mind to use the craft to our advantage. The rest of you were perfectly willing to fall over the side _with_ the O'Connells."

"Yes, yes," Jonathan retorted. "And now you're the only one tied up in knots. So who's the smart one now?"

Nasira stepped on his foot. Or rather, she stomped on his foot. And she was wearing a seriously tough pair of boots.

"Ow!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"Did I step on you?" she asked too sweetly. "I am so sorry; I had no idea your foot was there."

"I'll bet you didn't," Jonathan returned snottily.

Fueled by frustration, Jonathan gave the rope in his hand a last vicious tug. "There!" he crowed triumphantly as the rope came undone. Suddenly, Nasira was free… but the force of his tug sent her stumbling forward into his chest.

He caught her. For a moment, the two of them stood there, staring at one another. Jonathan's eyes got just a little too big, and for some reason his brain wasn't sending the appropriate messages to the rest of his body parts… messages such as, 'let go of the girl already, you bloody git!'

Nasira arched one of her dark brows at him. She straightened herself and then took a step back. Jonathan automatically let go, his arms dropping down uselessly at his sides.

She was a very pretty girl, he observed. Always had been. But the last time he'd seen her, she'd been so young… and now she was so hostile…

Still, she was a very pretty girl. Even with all that weird mumbo jumbo written all over her face.

"Thank you," she said.

Jonathan couldn't help the rush of resentment at the words. Why, she wasn't flustered at all!

"You're, uh… you're very welcome," he said.

She nodded, smiling slightly.

"You, um… uh… well, I…"

He wasn't really sure what he was trying to say. Not that it mattered; whatever it was didn't seem like it was coming out.

Nasira frowned at him, tilting her head to the side, watching him stutter. "You are very strange man," she finally interrupted.

He blinked. She walked over to the fire, still as unflustered as ever.

Jonathan stared after her, still every bit as flustered as she was not. He shook his head, scratching at his hair. That was simply not fair.

* * *

"Evie… I know you haven't been yourself lately, what with all these dreams and visions…"

Rick was staring at his wife. Having just heard her explanation of the wild leap she'd taken off the dirigible, he seemed to be having trouble fully buying into the story.

Madeline couldn't entirely blame him. Evie was a reincarnated princess destined to protect some cursed bracelet… and now she was having visions from her past life?

Ok. Sure.

"No, no, no, they're memories," Evie argued with her husband. "From my past life! Honestly, I'm not losing my mind; it all makes perfect sense now."

Did it? Really?

"And that's the reason why we found the bracelet?" Rick asked, still skeptical.

"Exactly," Evie said. "I was its protector."

"Now do you believe, my friend?" Ardeth asked. "Clearly you were destined to protect this woman."

Nasira gave Madeline a meaningful look. Madeline looked very intently at the fire in front of them all, wishing desperately that she wasn't sitting right next to the Med-jai woman.

"Right," Rick smirked. "She's a reincarnated princess, and I'm a warrior for god."

"Gods," Nasira corrected him. "As in more than one."

"Whatever."

"And your son leads the way to Ahm Shere," Ardeth pointed out. "Three sides of the pyramid. This was all preordained thousands of years ago."

"And how does the story end?" Evie asked.

"Ah," Ardeth smiled. "Only the journey is written. Not the destination."

"Convenient," Rick returned.

"How else do you explain Evie's visions?" Ardeth asked. "Or that your son is the one who wears the bracelet? How do you explain your mark?"

"Coincidence."

"My friend, there is a fine line between coincidence and fate."

"Well, I have to say, old pal, there seems to be quiet a few holes in your story," Jonathan announced.

Everyone stared at him. Madeline had to admit, Ardeth's never-ending speech about accepting one's destiny and all that fluff had been grating on her nerves too. But to actually say something about it, well…

She was still at the point where talking to Ardeth was challenging.

"Holes?" Ardeth asked dangerously.

"Yes, holes," Jonathan returned. "Nowhere was it written that only a certain person could wear the bracelet."

"True," Ardeth agreed. "But is it not odd that the one who wears it now is descended from the bracelet's protector, as well as a Med-jai?"

"Well, there are some more holes for you," Jonathan returned. "What evidence do we have that Rick is a Med-jai? Some fancy tattoo on his wrist? Anyone could have put it there!"

"Only a Med-jai…" Nasira began, but Jonathan cut her off.

"Well, yes, so you say," he rolled his eyes. "Only a Med-jai can put the mark on another person, and blah, blah, blah. But just because there's a rule doesn't mean everyone's following it. Believe you me, I know a thing or two about broken rules."

"Whether the mark was obtained legally is irrelevant," Nasira ground out through her teeth. "We must honor it. Anyone who bears it is considered a fellow tribesman."

"Which is silly," Jonathan pointed out. "Any fool could slap one of those marks on his wrist and waltz right into camp on pretense of being a fellow Med-jai, and then murder you all in your sleep!"

Ardeth turned a dark glower on Jonathan. Nasira didn't look too happy either, Madeline noticed, but she also looked reluctant to argue. Remembering her earlier conversation with the other woman, Madeline wondered if she'd had some of the same thoughts.

"Are you suggesting your brother-in-law wears a mark given to him by a false Med-jai?" Ardeth asked.

Jonathan shrugged. "I'm just suggesting that you consider it. Furthermore, you've entirely left out poor Maddie."

Madeline's eyes went wide. "I'm not poor," she protested. "I mean… I don't feel left out. Don't think I've been left out."

"Well you have been," Jonathan insisted. "You've got one of those bloody marks yourself, and no one's assigning _you_ a side of the pyramid."

Madeline fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't really want a side of the pyramid, thanks."

"Perhaps Madeline has a different destiny," Nasira returned lightly. "The Med-jai have secrets enough to protect, and she could be connected to any one of them. Besides, she is Rick's sister, and Evie's sister-in-law. Maybe she is meant to protect Evie as well."

Madeline snorted. "Well, I know I've done plenty of that."

"There you have it," Nasira said, shrugging. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Whether it is preordained, or left in the hands of chance, it has happened. And we must do our best to find a way out of it, or the world is going to end."

There was a long silence.

"Well," Jonathan said. "You're just a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?"


	12. Imhotep's Gift

Return of the Medjai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I got no rights to anything you recognize.

AN: Big thank yous to EastAngels2009, FallenAngelLove, Nelle07, I Keep Goldfish In My Bra, Ravenclaw Samurai, kaytieorndorff, Fang500, M*YP, zentry, SingingInTheRain1989, benzene, Steph, Rainbow Haired Girl, DeepWriter, pirate hero, Sidthe, Blue Skies Rusty, teskodanceparty, Bmangaka, Gladishiva, Hakujou Enputi-shigai, Samantha, onarra, winged-karma, Ankhsenamun, DeeDark, Angelle Darque, Clarissa Avila, and DiexGaaf for all the reviews! Holy shit, was that a lot of people! I am so sorry! Soooooooooo sorry!

Aaaaaaaack! Has it been so long? Really? I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry, my faithful readers and reviewers! I've been a bad, bad, super bad and disappointing authoress. Shame on me. I am the queen of Suck-land. I really wish I had a better excuse to hand you, but all I've got is writer's block. Hardcore writer's block. I'd stare at my computer screen for an hour, write two words, and then be like "Hmm... well... I could use a nap..." Then, after months of writer's block, my computer went and died and I couldn't update anything anyway. I am soooooooooo sooooooooo sorry. I suck. Especially since you've been waiting forever for this chapter and it's so short! I mean, really! I'm sorry! I literally hate myself right now. Please forgive me?

Lots of love, poorpiratelass!

* * *

Chapter 12: Imhotep's Gift

Karnak was deserted.

It was dry, dusty, hot... nothing but broken, abandoned ruins and a long, empty black train.

No Red Scarves. No Imhotep. No Alex.

Madeline sighed, surveying the temple in front of her. Her brother had taken Ardeth and Nasira to investigate the train, but she seriously doubted they'd find anything - or anyone - on it.

She had taken to the temple itself, along with Evie and Jonathan, and so far there wasn't anything or anyone around.

Dust rose around her boots with every step. The sun beat down mercilessly on her back. As she picked her way through the ruins, keeping a watchful eye on Evie and Jonathan, on the lookout for clues, she couldn't stop the limp, empty feeling of hopelessness from filling her. There was nothing here, so signs that anyone had visited the temple in quite some time - other than the empty train, that is.

There wasn't even a single footprint in the sand.

Madeline heard footsteps and turned towards the sound, her grip on her gun tightening.

Her brother was making his way towards her, Ardeth and Nasira in tow.

"Anything?" Rick demanded.

Madeline shook her head. "No."

She didn't have to ask to know that the search of the train had turned up nothing as well.

Her brother cursed, pushing deeper into the temple. Ardeth followed, moving out to the side in order to cover more ground.

Madeline glanced at Nasira. The warrior woman shrugged and moved out wordlessly. Madeline followed her example, biting her lower lip in anxiety. The rest of her small party began to disappear against the horizon line.

After a while, she saw something of interest at the base of two tall stone pillars. From a distance, it looked like a pile of rags... red rags.

As she drew nearer, the rag pile took the shape of two Red Scarves, lying prostrate in the dust. They appeared dead... unmoving, rigid, limbs twisted at odd angles.

She froze five feet from the scene, hearing a noise, and aimed her rifle in the suspect direction... the far pillar, on the other side of the enemy corpses.

Ardeth stepped out from behind the pillar. Madeline lowered the gun. He glanced briefly at her and then dropped his eyes to the men at his feet.

He didn't speak. The silence seemed larger than the temple, filling her ears and crushing her shoulders. She too said nothing. She didn't even move.

He knelt, nudging the man nearest him with the end of his Thompson. Madeline took a hesitant step backwards, wondering if she should go.

A shriek.

A temple-shaking, blood-clotting shriek. The dead man sat up, knocking the gun from Ardeth's hands. The Med-jai stumbled up, reaching for his sword as the reanimated corpse leapt onto its feet and fastened its hands around Ardeth's neck.

Madeline aimed and squeezed the trigger.

Bang! A bullet in the head, a zombie crumpled at Ardeth's feet.

A second unholy shriek. The other corpse leapt back to life. Again, Madeline took aim and fired. This zombie too fell to the ground, dead once again.

For a moment, Ardeth did not move. He stood still, staring at her, his hand not leaving the hilt of his scimitar. Madeline slowly lowered her rifle, her eyes not leaving his.

Ardeth snatched the Thompson from the ground and stalked past her.

She found her voice.

"You're welcome."

He froze. She stared at his back. When he finally looked at her, she found herself glaring.

"Thank you," he returned tightly.

Then he was gone.

Madeline watched him fade into the ruins and then she turned back to the corpses. She kept a tight grip on her rifle as she approached. Learning from Ardeth's mistake, she didn't kneel down but simply nudged the nearest Red Scarf with her boot.

He rolled over from the force of the kick, scarf tumbling from his face.

Sores and boils.

One of the Ten Plagues of Egypt.

A present from Imhotep. He knew they were following. He expected them to.

Madeline stared a little while longer at the bodies, wondering if they'd stay dead a second time.

She decided not to take any chances.

A light sprinkle of powder. A match.

Madeline watched them burn, controlling the blaze with dirt. She kept watch of the funeral fire until she heard Evie's scream.

Then she ran.

When she found her sister-in-law, she was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by the other members of the rescue party. Madeline raced over, standing behind the group and peering into their circle.

"Alex left us his tie," Evie announced, holding up the thin slip of red and yellow fabric. "And he made us a little sand castle."

'A little sand castle' was a massive understatement. Madeline let out a low whistle. She always knew her nephew was talented, but his little sand castle looked more like a sculpture than anything else. Little cubes of varying sizes, their sides all perfectly scored. It was exact in its replication.

"It's the Temple at Philae," Evie explained excitedly. "They've gone to the Temple at Philae."

Ten minutes later, and they were already in the air.

* * *

Nasira stood at the stern of the dirigible, watching the horizon expectantly. Izzy had assured them that the flight to Philae from Karnak shouldn't take long - that they'd reach the temple that afternoon. She wanted to believe him, wanted to be sure their trip would be short, easy... but found that she couldn't. After all, nothing had gone right thus far, so why should it start now?

The Creature knew they were following him and his legions. The slaughtered Red Scarves at the base of the pillars at Karnak had served their purpose, delivered his message. Infected with sores and boils, turned into mindless zombies intent on doing the Creature's bidding... one of the Ten Plagues of Egypt. They had tried to kill her brother. If Madeline hadn't shot them down, they might have succeeded. They might have killed them all.

They were a warning, a gift... an inside joke. The Creature knew the score far better than they did.

"Would you mind telling that brother of yours he's a right ungrateful bastard?"

Nasira jumped at the irritated British voice that sounded in her ear. She turned to see Jonathan had joined her at the rail.

"He most certainly is not," she snapped.

"Oh, yes, he most certainly is," Jonathan retorted, pushing himself off the rail and spinning around to lean his back against the side instead.

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Why, I would love to explain. You see, four years ago, my best friend Maddie broke your brother's heart. Then today, she saved his life and he could barely be bothered to say thank you! Pretty petty, don't you agree?"

Nasira blinked. She frowned at the Englishman. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Would I lie?"

She raised an eyebrow. Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Would I lie about something like that?"

Long pause.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jonathan snapped.

"My brother did not acknowledge what he owes her?" Nasira asked, frowning. "But that is dishonorable. When someone saves your life, it is the code to…"

"Oh, blah, blah, blah," Jonathan interrupted. "Enough of your silly Med-jai code and honor and duty business. What are we going to do about it?"

"The ancient laws and customs of my people are not silly," Nasira returned coldly, narrowing her eyes. "And I'm not sure we can do anything about it."

"You're not?" Jonathan snorted. "Piss poor attitude, that right there."

"You fail to understand. My brother? Failing in honor? In order for that, he… he would…"

"What ? Spit it out already!"

"He'd either have to be incredibly hurt, or incredibly angry or both. Ardeth holds grudges, Jonathan. The whole family is that way."

"The whole bloody people are that way," he countered. "Look at Imhotep. You lot been keeping that bloke dead for 3000 years."

She glared at him. Jonathan held up his hands in surrender.

"Sorry, sorry. Don't go bearing grudges against me!"

Nasira sighed, looking down at the sand. "I am certain Ardeth still loves Madeline," she said. "But I am not so certain he can stand forgiving her. She did more than break his heart when she refused him. She hurt his pride."

"And you all are a proud lot."

"We certainly are," Nasira returned fiercely. "It is one of our virtues."

"Yes, well… where I come from, pride happens to be a vice."

"Where you come from," she snorted. "What is that to me?"

"Hey, now."

"Well, you have belittled my people," she snapped. "Are you surprised I take offense? Or simply surprised that I have found fault with your great land of England? The British Empire." Again, she snorted. "You all are not so civilized as your paved streets and fancy colleges would have you believe. I have seen the cruelty your people are capable of. So what if my people have pride? At the end of the day, we have lived our lives for the greater good. Can your countrymen say the same?"

A long silence followed her outburst.

"Remember when you were a dreamy, bright-eyed teenager?" Jonathan finally spoke. "It wasn't that long ago. About four years. Whatever happened to make you so bitter?"

There was none of the usual snark to Jonathan's words, Nasira noted. "Battle happened," she replied. "Time happened. You know, protecting my people's treasures was my greatest dream."

"You regret it?"

"Never," she almost hissed. "I have no regrets. I simply have perspective. You know, once, I believed the archeologists and their ilk were simply misguided. Ignorant. I was so sure they could be reasoned with. It was barbaric, I would say, the way we slaughtered them like cattle. Surely there was an alternative. I thought I was going to change things. I was wrong. Four years of attempting to reason with those so-called educated men cured me of that idea quick. There is no reasoning with those people. Only killing. It is all they know – in truth, all we know."

Jonathan didn't reply right away. He traced the veins in the wooden railing with his index finger.

Nasira stared at the blue, cloudless sky for a while. Then she spoke.

"My brother is very miserable."

Jonathan looked at her. She did not look at him.

"She made him happy, you know? She made him laugh. I miss hearing him laugh."

"Well," Jonathan murmured quietly. "Then you and I really need to stop bickering so much and get those two back together again... quick."

"How? We've talked to them. Talked until we're blue in the face. They won't listen. They won't do anything to help themselves. What are we supposed to do, summon Hathor?"

"Who the bloody hell is Hathor?"

"Jonathan!" Nasira exclaimed, exasperated. "You said you were an Egyptologist!"

He smiled. "It was a joke."

Nasira took a moment to absorb that. "Oh."

They were quiet. "Maybe we should lock them in a tomb," Jonathan suggested.

Nasira laughed. Then sobered. "Maybe."

Another pause.

"Why are you so worried about Ardeth and Madeline making up?" Nasira asked.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for a love story."

He was being sarcastic. Nasira rolled her eyes. "Really," she insisted. "Why are you trying to get them back together? If we succeed, if they get married… she'll leave London. She'll have to live here, in the desert. And…"

She trailed off. Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "And what?" he asked. "I'll be all alone?"

Nasira looked down.

Jonathan shrugged, pushing off the rail. "Your brother isn't the only one who's been bloody miserable."

He paused a moment. Then he looked sideways at her, raising his chin almost proudly. "I'll miss her," he admitted. "But… she's the only friend I have in this world, and I can't stand seeing her so pathetic."

Nasira looked up at him again, but he was walking away. She wasn't sure why, but she felt something in her go out to him, felt something fall away.

"Jonathan," she called.

He stopped. Turned.

"You're a good man," she said. "I… I am sorry I have been so hostile."

He stared. Then he winked.

"No worries," he said. "Runs in your family, eh? Was bound to come out sooner or later."

She glared. He chuckled. Then he crossed the dirigible and headed in Madeline's direction.

His joke was not funny. Nasira did not feel better at all. In fact, quite suddenly, she felt ten times worse.


	13. The Temple at Philae

Return of the Medjai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I got no rights to anything you recognize.

AN: Big thank yous to Deep Writer, purpleflames, Nelle07, The-Lady-Isis, Faerex, DiexGaaf, Fang500, benzene, Sidthe, teskodanceparty, M*YP, I Keep Goldfish In My Bra, X-Mad-Giraffe-Attack-X, Sarah Victoria Cullen, tonidepp16, Rainbow Haired Girl, caleb's babe, Soldier of Passion, Bmangaka, Clarissa Avilia, zentry, pirate hero, FallenAngelLove, Holly, and Amethystt Quill for all the reviews! I know this was still kind of a late update… not nearly as the late as the last one, though *nervous laughter*… so I'm really sorry! I'm still trying to find that groove, you know? This story is currently kicking my ass.

Thanks again, and love to all!

* * *

Chapter 13: The Temple at Philae

The dirigible touched down on the tiny island along the Nile by mid-afternoon, just as Izzy had promised. Madeline surveyed the abandoned temple with little hope.

Her nephew was an astonishingly brilliant boy, and so she believed he was more than capable of leaving them another hint, as he had back in Karnak. She was certain they would find another sand castle waiting for them somewhere among the ruins.

She was also certain that they would not find Alex, not here. And she was pretty sure, at the same time, that they _would_ find another little present from Imhotep meant to trip them up and slow them down, if not destroy them altogether.

This whole thing sucked.

Madeline took off on her own, weaving through the pillars and outbuildings of the temple, eyes peeled for anything resembling a sand castle… or a Red Scarf with an unfortunate case of the sores and boils.

She ducked inside a small outbuilding, rifle at the ready, moving as quietly as she knew how. The interior of the building was dark and cramped. As she snuck along the perimeter, she saw a flash of black in a far corner of the shed-like building.

Madeline aimed, stepping up alongside a tall, square, stone pillar.

A figure stepped into the light from one of the tiny windows, a Thompson machine gun leveled in her direction.

Ardeth.

Again.

Why, oh why did she keep running into him, everywhere she went?

She lowered the rifle and stepped slowly into the dim light. His Thompson went down to his side.

They stared at each other.

Silently.

You know, like usual.

"Anything?" Madeline ventured to ask. Her voice bounced off the stone walls of the outbuilding, too loud, too harsh, increasing the awkward atmosphere tenfold.

He just shook his head.

She nodded, and then moved towards the door.

Only to find said door closed. She frowned. She certainly hadn't done that.

She also didn't know how to open said door.

Madeline stood there for a moment, staring uselessly at the blank stone rectangle obstructing her path to sunshine and freedom. She felt Ardeth approach, felt the tiny hairs on her arms and neck stand up as he drew near, felt the heat in the stuffy enclosure rise as he stopped beside her, just a little too close to be comfortable.

Of course, the amount of distance necessary between the two of them in order for her to be comfortable could only be achieved if she somehow teleported off to Siberia, so…

He too was staring at the door.

"You shut it."

His tone was low, growling, and annoyed. Madeline glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I did no such thing!"

He glared back.

"Then explain why the door is shut?"

"You must have done it!"

"I was here first!"

"Oh really? You sure about that?"

"You realize there is no way of opening this door from the inside?"

Yeah. That thought had occurred to her. She'd dismissed it, hoping that an ancient civilization with the know-how to build giant pyramids without the conveniences of modern technology would have had the foresight to build a doorknob on both sides of a door.

As usual, she was wrong.

Madeline sighed, still staring at the door. "Damn it."

* * *

Jonathan was struggling not to laugh out loud as he raced away from the outbuilding, door locked firmly in place, Nasira running alongside him. He managed to contain the laughter until they'd reached a safe distance from the small building, and then he nearly fell over as the laughter bubbled out of his mouth.

Nasira stumbled to a stop beside him as Jonathan grabbed a nearby pillar for support, doubled over as he guffawed loudly. For a moment, she stared at him.

Then she giggled.

The giggle was enough to set Jonathan off all over again. He sank to the ground, laughing as he went. She giggled again. And again. And soon, she was laughing as hard as he was.

He smiled, regaining control over his chuckles. It was nice to hear Nasira laugh again. The light on her face, the stretching of her smile, the girlish giggles erupting from her mouth was reminiscent to the girl she'd been four years ago. He missed that girl.

Oh, sure. Say that out loud, and the scary warrior she'd become would give him some bloody long speech about time and battle and how foolish that younger version of herself had been. She was very different now, he noted. Different enough that he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about her anymore.

Four years ago, and Nasira Bay had been simultaneously young, naïve, romantic, and beautiful… but still quite deadly. He'd found her fascinating.

Not that he would have told anyone that. She was more than ten years his junior, and he was sure Maddie… and Evie… and Ardeth… and everyone else they knew would be on his case for cradle-robbing.

They were on his case for everything else, after all. Drinking, gambling, womanizing…

The only one who ever cut him any slack at all was Maddie, and ever since she'd hung up her shot glass, even she'd become much less fun than he remembered.

Nasira was sobering all too quickly. Her tattooed face was rearranging itself back into that stern, tight expression she usually wore. The stern, tight expression that made her look so much like Ardeth.

Her tongue, however, more closely resembled that of her other brother, Yasir. And that was the real shame. Yasir was a right smug, proud old stick-in-the-mud, not to mention a rude, insensitive and fairly ruthless bastard.

And the man inside of Jonathan that had befriended the girl Nasira had been four years ago did not want to see her become that brother. He didn't really want to see her become Ardeth either, but he especially did not want to see her become Yasir.

She cleared her throat, smile gone now and laughter subsided. "They are going to kill us when we let them out."

Jonathan was still smiling wide, and decided not to let her stern manner affect his happy mood. "It'll be worth it," he chortled. "Bloody stubborn, stupid pair of gits…"

"I hope they have enough time to talk," Nasira interrupted. "We don't have any real time to waste here, and once Evie and Rick find a sign from their son…"

"Yes, yes," Jonathan waved her off, rolling his eyes. "Fate of the world, and blah, blah, blah. May we just enjoy this one moment of happiness, _please_? We'll get right back to all the doom and gloom business shortly, I promise."

Nasira raised an eyebrow. He was beginning to understand what that cock of the eyebrow meant, and it was usually a bitter rant of some sort. Jonathan braced himself, fighting the urge to roll his eyes yet again.

Then she surprised him with a short smile. "I suppose it does get to be too dreary after a while."

He blinked.

She leaned against the pillar and eyed the outbuilding in which they had trapped the Med-jai chieftain and Jonathan's clumsy best friend.

"I think I've forgotten how to have fun," she observed.

"I think you may be right."

She glared at him. Jonathan shrugged and smiled brightly.

"Well, it was your words and not mine."

Nasira smiled stiffly and let the slight go.

He was surprised once again.

* * *

Madeline surveyed the tiny windows in the small cramped space she was currently trapped in, hoping to find some way out of this hell.

"The windows are too tiny," Ardeth observed from where he sat on a stone bench by the door. "We won't get out that way."

She tensed and narrowed her eyes, chewing furiously on her lip to prevent the number of smart remarks she was dying to say.

"Well, excuse me if I haven't resigned myself to eternity in this closet just yet."

Huh. That worked well, didn't it?

He sighed harshly.

This was just stupid.

Madeline whirled around, annoyed. She wasn't planning on saying anything else, but the words tumbled out anyway. "You know, I get it, ok? You hate me. I know I'm slow, but I'm not completely dense. I've figured it out; you can stop being a huge jerk."

Then she turned away from him and approached one of the larger windows, appraising its size, hoping it was large enough for her to squeeze through.

It wasn't.

"Drat," she mumbled.

"Who said I hated you?"

Oh, was he talking again?

"No one needed to say it. You don't even have to say it; your actions have made it perfectly clear."

Silence fell over the cramped space. Madeline stayed on her side of the building, back still turned to him, hands on her hips.

"You make the biggest, most asinine assumptions."

Madeline furrowed her brow and spun, directing yet another glare in his direction. "Excuse me?"

He returned the death glower, and said nothing.

She took a step towards him, still glaring. "Oh, no. Don't stop now! You're off to such an excellent start!"

"Have you ever asked anyone how they truly feel about anything?" he snapped. "Or do you just assume you know what everyone is thinking instinctually?"

Now she was twice as pissed off.

"Hey, I am not the bad guy here! I have been trying to be civil since you walked into Rick and Evie's manor! You are the one being an insufferable jackass! So don't start pinning all this on me, pal!"

"But it is your fault!" he thundered, leaping to his feet.

"_What?_"

"You heard me! It is your fault! All of this! If you hadn't…"

"If I hadn't what? Asserted my right to not marry you?"

Long, deathly silence filled the room.

Madeline winced. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ok," she murmured. "Maybe bringing that up wasn't the best idea."

"Perhaps not," he spat.

She saw red again. "Oh, like you weren't about to! That's what all this is! I said no, and now you're mad!"

"How can I not be mad?"

"It's been four years! Besides, _you're_ the one with the fiancé!"

"You have no right to be jealous!"

"I'm not jealous!"

"And you know perfectly well the circumstances of my engagement!"

"Oh, boo-hoo! Sucks to be you; you have to marry the most beautiful girl on the planet!"

"Your insecurity is highly unattractive."

"Well, good thing you don't have to deal with it anymore!"

And then they fell into another long, painful, fuming silence.

They stared at one another. His chest was heaving up and down, and he looked flushed and furious. Her own breath wasn't coming easy either and she knew her expression must have mirrored his.

All of a sudden, all the fight went out of her, replaced by bone-heavy exhaustion. She sighed, dropping her arms from where they'd been crossed over her chest, and turned her back on him.

She made her way to a far corner of the building and took a seat against the cool, stone wall. It was welcome relief from the stuffy heat of their prison. She stared at the dirt floor.

He didn't move. He stopped breathing so hard, and the anger melted off his face, but he didn't move from his position in the center of the room, where he stood upright, his eyes trained on her. For reasons she didn't bother trying to understand, he didn't look away.

"You can hate me if you want," she told him listlessly. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I just… I knew this wasn't going to work."

He stared at her a little while longer. His lips got tight, and some of his previous irritation returned to his eyes and his tone. "How could you have possibly known something like that?"

She shrugged, smirking cheekily, falling back on sarcasm before she could stop herself. "Didn't you know? Evie's not the only one who has psychic visions."

He shook his head, his upper lip twitching with something that resembled disgust. "And just when I believe you are going to talk seriously…"

"I have been talking seriously," she snapped. "I have. I talked seriously four years ago too. And you agreed with half of what came out of my mouth. You knew damn well that your people weren't going like this match. You knew damn well that I wasn't fit for the responsibilities that came with being your wife. And… and I'm sorry that I hurt you, I'm sorry I bruised your pride… but I didn't say no because I didn't love you. You were the only man I'd ever loved. It was because I loved you that I said no. I wasn't going to ruin you."

"Stop saying that."

"Why? It's…"

"It is not true!" he bellowed, cutting her off. "It is not true, and it never was, and more importantly, you know it!"

"Excuse me?"

He took a single step towards her. "I am not going to lie to you," he said. "I wasn't going to lie to you then, either. My people have reservations about outsiders. The council is mostly composed of older generations, and they are adverse to change. The majority of them have not caught up to the modern way of thinking. They are old-fashioned. They cling to tradition. The younger generations are not the same way, but they too would have been uncertain about you. We are a private people. We try to stay closed off from the rest of the world. And even those of us who have begun to realize the danger in isolation are still suspicious when it comes to Americans and Europeans. I know that this mentality is unfair, but it is also not entirely unwarranted. The Europeans and Americans we have met in the past have given us little reason to trust them."

Madeline shook her head at him helplessly. "Then why do you…?"

"I am not done," he cut her off, a little anger edging back into his voice. "There would have been obstacles. And there would have been those who would have never accepted you. But for the majority? It would not have taken long for you to earn their trust. You earned mine, after all."

She was almost shamed by the comment. He pushed on. "You did not bother to really learn about my people," he accused her. "You made assumptions, as you usually do, and you stuck by those assumptions."

Madeline glared at him. He still wasn't done.

"More importantly, you _did_ know about some of the responsibilities you would have had to fulfill. And you were afraid. It was not that you were unfit to fulfill those responsibilities; it was that you were afraid to try. And so you ran. You tended to always run from responsibility."

Which was actually very true, and despite being enraged by the comment, Madeline couldn't bring herself to debate it.

"I knew it wasn't going to be easy," he told her. "I knew marrying you would be hard. I knew there would be obstacles. I knew we'd constantly be fighting to overcome those obstacles. And I decided you were worth that. You decided I was not."

Then he turned his back on her and walked across the small space to the opposite wall. He took his seat there and stared determinedly out the small window.

Madeline took a moment to review. Ok, some of that was true. She did run from responsibility – at least, the old Madeline had. And she had been insecure and afraid and…

But it wasn't that he wasn't worth it. It wasn't that at all.

"So you're just going to be pissed at me until the end of the world?" she asked with a bite to her tone.

He redirected his glower from the window to her face.

"Granted, that's only like a week from now," she reasoned. "But still. Petty much?"

He opened his mouth to say something. She cut him off.

"You know I can't even argue with you," she told him. "Some of those things you said were true. I was irresponsible and scared and insecure. I was also a raging alcoholic who could barely speak Arabic, knew next to nothing about your culture, and had a hell of a lot of growing up to do. My one virtue? I knew that about myself. I knew that when you asked me to marry you four years ago, that I was nowhere near ready to marry _anyone_, especially not someone like you."

"So you were doing me a favor?" he spat.

"Don't interrupt me," she spat back. "I let you have your little tirade; now it's my turn. You are absolutely right. I make stupid assumptions and I stick by them and it gets me in trouble. And I didn't know anything about your culture except for the assumptions I'd made based on the few people I'd talked to and what they'd told me, and that was completely unfair. But see, it didn't really matter who you and your people were. The only thing that mattered was who _I_ was, and I was a regular fuck-up."

He shook his head bitterly. She wasn't done.

"What's it going to take?" she asked him, anger and frustration creeping into her voice. "What do you want me to say, Ardeth? That I spent the past four years of my life being totally and completely miserable? That I missed you so bad it hurt? That I gave up drinking and perfected my swordsmanship and studied Arabic all in an attempt to be good enough for you and your people? That I needed four years to become a responsible, functioning adult? And that I'm sorry your ego got hurt while I was off becoming a better person on the off chance that maybe your people would hate me slightly less? Not that I entertained notions of getting a second chance with you – make no mistake, when you left Cairo that day, I knew you weren't coming back. Not for me. Still… it was time to grow up. You did that for me; you made me see that. And I'm sorry, ok? But if I had married you four years ago, whatever it was we had would have fallen apart. So… I'm not going to apologize for that. I did the right thing."

Silence filled the room.

"And for the record?" she added. "I always thought you were worth trouble and pain and hardship, ok? I thought you were worth a lot more, too."

They stared at each other from across the room for a long time. The room was silent. No one spoke, no one moved.

There was a loud scraping sound from the entrance. Madeline leapt to her feet and bounded to the door.

The heavy stone slab rolled away from the exit. Bright sunlight streamed in through the door. Madeline blinked at the sight of Jonathan and Nasira standing outside in the dust, the sun beating down on their heads, their hair shining in the light.

"Bloody hell," Jonathan said. "You two are frightfully loud, I hope you know."

Madeline narrowed her eyes at him.

"Lucky thing, though," he went on, smirking. "Otherwise, how would we have found you?"

Before Madeline could say a word, Nasira spoke up.

"Rick and Evie have found another sandcastle," she announced. "A replication of the Great Temple at Abu Simbel. We are leaving. Now."

Madeline rushed out of the room, not waiting to see if anyone was following her. She took off for the dirigible, where she could see Rick and Evie already boarding.

She did not feel lighter. She did not feel as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She did not feel hopeful.

She felt stupid.

He was engaged. He was angry with her. And she had just laid out all her feelings, right there in the open, for him to see.

Stupid. So stupid.

No matter what she did, how old she got, she just couldn't seem to stop putting her foot in her mouth.


	14. The Temple at Abu Simbel

Return of the Medjai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I got no rights to anything you recognize.

AN: Big thank yous to Like-Vines-We-Intertwine, FallenAngelLove, Rainbow Haired Girl, Nelle07, Discompobilated, AmethystQuill, teskodanceparty, clear skye, DiexGaaf, Ravenclaw Samurai, SingingInTheRain1989, thatredheadedchick, The-Lady-Isis, zentry, tonidepp16, Bmangaka, Gladishiva, Clarissa Avila, I Keep Goldfish In My Bra, benzene, Sidthe, Fang500, Sarah Victoria Cullen, shippolove844, Ashi-Eiketsu, MYP, Pirate Hero, Holly, Jenny88, angel19872006, QuietPoetic, cflat, RyuuZetsumei, ILuvOdie, Back in Black, and backseatgoodbyeislife for all the reviews!

* * *

Chapter 14: The Temple at Abu Simbel

The dirigible had been in the air for only a few minutes now, flying straight into the setting sun. Izzy predicted they would reach Abu Simbel in less than an hour. Then they would fly on through the night to reach whatever the next destination might be.

Tomorrow would be the fourth day of the resurrection.

Ardeth sighed, leaning forward on his elbows, perched on the edge of the dirigible. For a moment, at Karnak, he had allowed himself to believe the world might not end after all.

He should have expected nothing short of brilliance from a boy with Richard and Evelyn O'Connell for parents. The sand castles were impressive not only in theory, but practice. For an eight-year-old child to have even thought up such an idea was surprising in itself, but to have made such exact replicas of each monument required skill most people three times the boy's age did not have.

Alex O'Connell was most definitely a prodigy.

Still, Alex O'Connell was _not_ at Philae, and Ardeth doubted the boy would be at Abu Simbel. They were following a step behind the Creature… and a step behind was too far behind.

He was worried. He was always worried. But he always had reasons. Good ones.

He glanced towards the other end of the dirigible.

Madeline was down there, staring at the horizon line.

In truth, Ardeth did not know what to do. About any of it. About the resurrection, about the Creature, about the boy… about Madeline, about Sameya, about his people… he was lost.

Madeline's admissions at Philae had thrown him. His own admissions had embarrassed him. He was confused and so he was ignoring her.

Again.

He meant most of it. That she made asinine assumptions. That she did not bother to learn about his people. That she was running scared, and not running for him.

Still, he might have been unfair. He knew what he'd been asking, four years ago. Asking her to leave her family. Leave her friends. Leave her job. Leave everything she knew for something she didn't know at all. Asking her to adopt Med-jai custom and law, when he knew she didn't agree with a lot of it, and knew almost nothing about the rest.

To hand her so much responsibility when she'd never really had any before. To tell her straight out that life with him would be difficult – that his people would frown on her, that some might never like her… it was too much to ask of anyone.

Still, he'd thought she was different. That she was strong. That she could handle it – more importantly, that she _would_ handle it. That she could push aside all her doubts and fears and just… well, it had hurt that she chose not to do any of those things. He'd chosen her over everything else. Over his own doubts and fears. He had chosen difficulty over ease, because she was worth it.

Or so he'd thought.

And even now, with all her cards out on the table, he still felt wronged. Disappointed. And a little bitter about it all.

She had let him down. He had risked a lot on her, and she had let him down.

He wasn't going to apologize for anything – he had nothing to apologize for.

"You're being stubborn again."

The words came from Nasira, and they irritated him. He did not want to talk to his sister.

"What you and Jonathan did was foolish," he reprimanded her. His eyes never left the horizon line. "We don't have the time to waste on pranks."

"It wasn't a prank."

"Whatever it was. It was foolish, and it wasted time. You should have known better."

"You should know better. We heard what the two of you said in there. Everyone within a ten mile radius heard what you two said in there."

"I am not going to discuss this with you."

"Good. This is not a discussion; it is a lecture."

"Nasira, you are treading on thin ice."

"You are being stubborn, and you are hurting no one but yourself."

Ardeth did not reply.

"You don't have to forgive her. You don't have to apologize. You don't have to marry her and live happily ever after. But when all this is over, if we win…"

"We may not."

"I know. But if we do… well, before you return to the village and marry Sameya Al Tufayl out of spite and obligation, there is something you should know."

He snorted impatiently. Nasira was not deterred.

"She doesn't want to marry you."

"I don't want to marry her."

"Ardeth… I wish you would listen."

"There is nothing you can tell me that…"

"There _is_. Ardeth… you must know any woman in our tribe would have killed to be the Council's choice. You have power. You have respect. In marriage, both that power and respect extends to your bride."

"I don't need…"

"But Sameya is not interested."

"Which is undoubtedly why the Council chose her."

"You are not listening. Ardeth, Sameya does not want to marry you because she wants to marry someone else."

Before that sentence, Ardeth really _hadn't _been listening to his sister. He was annoyed with her. She had locked him in an outbuilding as though they were twelve again. She had forced him to face off with the one person he'd spent the majority of the trip avoiding. And then she had sought him out on board the dirigible to scold him about things Ardeth did not want to talk about.

But this was different.

"What do you mean?"

"Sameya Al Tufayl is perhaps the one unmarried woman out of the whole confederation who does not want to marry you… and she does not want to marry you because she wants someone else."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter who. What matters is that she wants him, and he wants her back, and if you marry her, you won't just ruin your own life, but you'll ruin the lives of two innocent bystanders along the way. If you won't stop this self-destructive path for your own good, then do it for Sameya."

He finally looked at Nasira. She stared back evenly.

"Marry someone else," she told him. "Pick one of the countless women in the confederation who actually _want_ to marry you. Marry one of our cousins! Marry a goat, for all I care! If you want to be miserable, be miserable! Don't make that innocent girl be miserable with you."

Then she turned her back on him and stomped away.

Ardeth glared after her.

Now he really did not know what to do.

* * *

The late afternoon sun beat down on the deck of the dirigible, making it unbearably hot for its passengers. Jonathan sat beside the helm, trying to stay within the shade of the huge balloon over his head. His eyes were focused unseeingly on his sister and her husband, who were seated nearby. The unfocused stare was an effort to look unoccupied and innocent as he attempted steal back his gold stick from Izzy's bag.

He couldn't help it. He just really liked that stupid gold stick.

"You know, I know that whole mess back at Philae was your fault, you jackass."

It was Madeline's voice. Jonathan looked at her as she took a seat beside him, his lips twitching into a smirk.

"Yes, that whole mess back at Philae was in fact this jackass's fault, Maddie my dear," he returned. "And I'm bloody proud of it too."

She glared at him, but Jonathan wasn't fooled. He could see the corners of her mouth fighting to form a smile. That was his favorite part of his friendship with her… she could never stay mad at him, no matter how hard she tried.

"You're a jerk," she announced. "You locked me in a tomb!"

"It wasn't a tomb, you silly bint – it was an outbuilding of sorts. Really, I think your panties are unnecessarily in a bunch."

"You locked me in teensy shed like thing with the one man you know I am currently avoiding!"

"Which is obviously why I did it! You know, sometimes you can be so thick…"

"That was an honestly painful experience for me, Jonathan. You're supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend," he returned, his fingers still searching the helm behind him for his prize. "And I know that was painful. But it needed to be done. More importantly, that little argument you two had in there is in no way over. You two still need to hash some things out. Make amends. Arrive at understandings. Snog yourselves useless like Brains and Brawn over there."

He gestured at Rick and Evie, who were so caught up in whatever they were discussing – undoubtedly Alex – that they had failed to notice Jonathan and Madeline.

Madeline rolled her eyes. "There will be no snogging."

"Yes, yes, so you say."

"I mean it."

"I believe you."

"You really need to let this go. I have."

Jonathan snorted. "You most certainly have not."

"Have too!"

His fingers brushed something cold and cylindrical. "Have not!"

"Jonathan, I…"

"Aha!"

He pulled the stick free of the helm and grinned at it. "Hello darling."

Madeline glared. "Stealing again I see?"

He tucked the stick inside his coat. "It isn't _stealing_ if it's rightfully mine."

"It's not yours anymore, Jonathan."

"Sure it is. It belonged to me in the first place – your giant of an older brother had no business giving it away without my permission!"

"It was for Alex."

Silence.

Jonathan shrugged. "Yes, well, what Izzy doesn't notice until after Alex is rescued won't hurt anyone. Now you need to go over there and confront the brooding Med-jai so Nasira and I can have some peace."

"Oh, sure," Madeline rolled her eyes. "Let me just pop on over there – for _you_. So the pressures of matchmaking can be lifted from your shoulders."

"That's all I ask."

"Please. Even if I do make up with Ardeth, you and Nasira still won't know any peace. The two of you can't seem to go five minutes without arguing about _something_."

"Well, it's her fault! She's the one who morphed into a sanctimonious, arrogant, straight arrow…"

"Noble Med-jai warrior bent on protecting the treasures and secrets of her people?"

Jonathan pouted. "Whatever."

"Hey! Where's my gold stick!"

Jonathan winced at the sound of Izzy bellowing in outrage directly behind him.

Madeline smirked at him.

"You!" Izzy bellowed at Jonathan, whacking him on the head. "Where's my gold stick? You give it!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"You stole it! I know it was you! Give it back or I'll beat it out of you!"

Jonathan looked at Madeline, but she just rolled her eyes and walked away.

Izzy smacked him again.

Jonathan sighed, removed the stick from his coat, and handed it over.

He'd just have to try again. Later. When Izzy was more distracted… and there was somewhere to run besides the opposite end of the dirigible.

* * *

True to Izzy's word, the dirigible touched down at Abu Simbel just as the sun was beginning to set. Rick O'Connell sighed heavily as he surveyed the temple that, as his wife was currently telling him, had been built by Ramsses II as a monument to his favorite wife, Nefertari.

"So… you, then." Rick returned, giving Evie a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

Evie gave him a small sad smirk of her own. "Yes, I suppose so."

His hand found her shoulder. "We're going to find him Evie."

"I know."

He smiled at her. They began trekking towards the huge temple, approaching the statues that stood as tall as city buildings in downtown London.

Evie was lying and so was he. They had no way of knowing that they would ever find their son, just as they had no way of knowing whether or not the world would end. They kept up a brave face, each one trying to be strong for the other, but bottom line; they were in a hell of a situation, there were no guarantees, and both of them knew it.

Nine years into their marriage and they were still going strong. They were happy and they were as in love with each other as they had been on their wedding night. People who didn't know them very well might assume they were still newlyweds. Rick himself wasn't sure that the honeymoon ever ended. And he knew damn well that his little sister and his brother-in-law were sick and tired of watching him and his wife make out.

It was a rare marriage that continued on in this vein, and he liked to think that meant it was going to last forever. But there was a terror in his gut right now, a terror of losing his son, and he knew if that happened it would have a lasting effect on his fairytale marriage.

He loved Alex. He lived and breathed for the kid, and for Evie. Losing either of them would destroy him. Losing both of them would kill him.

If he and Evie lost Alex, though… Rick suspected they'd lose one another too.

It was an odd thing to think, but he believed it to be true. He and Evie had wasted no time in getting married after that first adventure together out at Hamunaptra. Alex had been born early on in their marriage. No sooner had he and Evie tied the knot, but suddenly she was pregnant. Their relationship had been fast-paced, a whirlwind… their courtship lasted days, their wedding impromptu.

On top of all that, almost their entire marriage had centered around raising their son and without Alex…

Without Alex, would there be a Rick and Evie?

Rick was ashamed to admit it, but he feared that there wouldn't be.

He took comfort in small things… like how comfortable the silence between them was. He circled the ancient temple, gun at the ready, eyes peeled for any sign of his son. Evie trailed along behind him, weaponless, also on high alert.

They moved towards the entrance of the temple. There, by the feet of Ramsses II, they found the third of Alex's sandcastles.

Evie was the one to spot it. She let out an excited yelp, rushing forward and falling to her knees in the sand.

"What is it?" Rick demanded, kneeling beside her.

Evie gently brushed her fingers over the sand castle, smiling softly. "It's the ruins of Kerma. One of the ancient cities of Nubia."

"How far?"

"Half a day, maybe."

Rick sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"We're cutting it close."

Evie nodded. "I know."

They both got to their feet, dusting off their pants, and stared down at the sandcastle.

"We'll find him, Evie," Rick said.

Evie nodded again. "I know."

And then they heard the buzzing.

Both of them whirled in the direction of the noise, expecting the end of the world… and if they hadn't known better, they just might think that was exactly what they were seeing. On the horizon line a giant black cloud had sprung up and was advancing on the temple at a speed no cloud could manage.

"Locusts?" Evie asked hopefully.

Rick shook his head. "I'm willing to bet flies."

* * *

Madeline had been expecting such a turn of events since Izzy's dirigible touched down in Philae.

It hadn't happened there, of course. There had been no locusts or fiery hail or zombies covered in sores and boils.

But here it was, just as she'd been waiting for it. One of the ten plagues of Egypt: the plague of flies.

She'd been wondering when Imhotep would leave another little present behind for them to find. He had to know they were following; he had to have noticed Alex's little breadcrumbs… he, of course, had to want to stop them, or at least slow them down.

The flies were on them in mere seconds, leaving no time for running or hiding. It wouldn't have been a big deal, she supposed, if the flies had been like the ones in London… but Egypt was known for its giant, biting flies… and what evil undead mummy conjuring up a plague of flying insects passes up flies like that?

Sharp pain snapped on her bare forearm… and then on her shoulder, as one fly bit through the fabric of her shirt. She slapped at the flies as their sharp little teeth sunk into her skin… on her face, her arms, her legs…

Most of the noise came from the flies. Their buzzing was deafening. But over the monotonous din of the flies came the occasional squeak or yelp from Evie or Jonathan. Her brother was yelling too, his deep bellows clearly audible over the buzzing.

She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. The swarming black cloud blotted out the harsh desert sun, the flies flew at her eyes.

Madeline put one hand up to shield her face and began the race back towards the dirigible. She knew the approximate direction to take, but that didn't make the trek manageable. Swatting at the flies, ducking her head, and keeping her mouth shut against the insect invaders, Madeline rushed across the hot sand, past the tall statues at the mouth of the temple.

She paused, ducking behind one giant stone leg. It wasn't much in the way of cover, but enough for the moment. Still shielding her eyes, she looked around the edge of the statue at the rest of the rescue party. Rick was ushering Evie towards the dirigible, shielding her head with his arm. Izzy was still on the balloon, swatting at the flies buzzing around his head, screaming at everyone to hurry. Nasira had her scarf covering her face as she ran, Jonathan was right behind her, his coat up over his head, and Ardeth was swatting the flies away, head whipping around, back and forth, not running, but backing towards the dirigible.

Everyone was safe. Madeline put her arm over her head again and ran for the dirigible.

Rick threw Evie on board, turned his head in Madeline's direction. When he saw her running, he nodded once and then leapt onboard the dirigible after his wife. Nasira too leapt gracefully on board and then extended a hand to help the struggling Jonathan scramble up beside her.

Ardeth's searching eyes settled on her.

He turned tail and ran for the dirigible.

It occurred to her that he might have been waiting for her – searching for her.

She made it across the sand in record time, vaulting over the edge of the dirigible. As soon as she was onboard, the dirigible began to rise from the ground.

They continued swatting at flies until they were far up in the air and moving away from Abu Simbel. Soon, the ominous black buzzing cloud was behind them, no longer a threat.

Madeline leaned against the rail, shoulders slumped, trying to catch her breath. Everyone around her was breathless too, leaning and sitting, trying to recover.

"Where…" she gasped, looking at Rick. "Where… are we going?"

"Kerma," Evie answered instead. "We should be there tomorrow morning."

Madeline nodded. She had no idea where Kerma was – or what it was, for that matter. "Ok."

She glanced at the other end of the dirigible. Jonathan had full on collapsed. He was lying on the ground, arms flung out dramatically, gasping for air. Nasira was scolding him, leaning against the rail, as breathless as he was.

Ardeth was staring at her.

She looked at him.

He looked away.

Madeline sighed, slumping to the ground. She sat, back against the side of the dirigible, staring at the sky.

He'd been worried about her.

He'd waited for her. Looked for her.

Well, that was something, wasn't it?

But it didn't mean, of course, that anything was going to change. Far from it, judging by the way he'd gone back to ignoring her.

Well, that was all right. She was used to the way things were now. It wouldn't be impossible to go back to London when this was over and forget it had ever happened.

She hoped.


	15. The Ruins at Kerma

Return of the Med-jai

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I got no rights to anything you recognize.

AN: Big thank yous to Nelle07, backseatgoodbyeislife, Ankhsenamun, FallenAngelLove, Fang500, GoldMotel, TheDevil'sVendetta, shippolove844, Gladishiva, MYP, ZakiChiUmi, Ashi-Eiketsu, tonidepp16, Sarah Victoria Cullen, Bmangaka, zentry, Comidia Del Arte, MoonlitSorrows, Holly, Touch of Madness, benzene, Pirate Hero, Sairahiniel, Jael Rainer, GaarasMyBoyz, Max Alleyne, QuietPoetic, hakusho14, annani, Hidden Relevance, NahNahNah, Second Star, sparkalie, CrissYami, Angels-heart1, TigerPaw2013, SighingWinter, the-mighty-pen325, Tiri Lotus, PLEASE DELETE THIS IM NOT USIN,VanillaBubblez, Freyalyn, xXLovelyAriaXx, Musik Drache, cuteepiee1 and Jasper's girl21 for all the reviews!

An apology is in order. It has been close to a year since I last updated this story, and that is just not cool. I don't know what's up with me, but I cannot get my head in the game. I'm sorry you guys. You've all been so great and so patient, and I've appreciated all the support. It's my intention to finish this story by any means, and I promise I will. Thank you again! You've all been great.

* * *

Chapter 15: The Ruins at Kerma

Madeline leaned on the side of the dirigible, watching her brother stroke the fire. He sat with one leg bent, an arm balanced on his knee, and a frown between his eyebrows as he vigorously raked through the ashes and poked viciously at the logs. The sun had long since set, and Evie was asleep, curled up in a blanket by the helm. Jonathan was leaning against the helm beside her, snoring. The Bays were isolated on the opposite end of the dirigible.

It had been gnawing at Madeline since Nasira had broached the subject two days ago, and now she seized the opportunity to pounce, to question her brother all about why Nasira and Ardeth knew so much about their tattoos.

She crossed the dirigible and flopped beside him. Rick didn't look up from stoking the fire. "What?" he demanded.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Madeline announced. "Why do the Bays know about our tattoos?"

Rick shrugged one shoulder, eyes fixed on the fire. "Hard to explain, really."

"Try."

He sighed. "I forgot my wristband. Ardeth saw the mark back in London, when I was pulling weapons out of the trunk of my car."

"And Nasira?"

"Well, Ardeth didn't exactly keep quiet about it, and she was standing right there. He got all excited, you know? Rambling on about the mark of the Med-jai and destiny and all that bull." Rick snorted, waving a hand as though the whole idea was ridiculous.

Madeline looked at him hard. "Right, so… that explains _you_… but why do they know about me and _my_ stupid tattoo?"

He sighed again. "Does it really matter? So I mentioned your tattoo. What's the big deal?"

"I don't… well, I guess that all depends on why the hell they're so interested."

"I have no idea."

"Nasira was asking me a million and one questions."

"Sorry."

"Did you tell them?"

"Tell them what?" Rick snapped. "That a long time ago, some strange man inked us and then tried to adopt us?"

Madeline shrugged.

"No," he bit out. "I didn't tell them."

She sighed. "Me either."

Silence.

"What do you think it all means?" she asked suddenly.

Rick sighed, abruptly tossing aside the stick he'd been using to stoke the fire. "I don't know, all right? And I don't really care at the moment. I've got a missing kid out here somewhere!"

More silence. Madeline stared at him, sorry she'd ever brought the thing up.

"You know, Alex saw our tattoos?" Rick asked suddenly. "Back at that temple in Thebes? He said there was a cartouche just like it."

"Really?"

Rick nodded, sighing harshly. "Ardeth keeps pestering me about it," he went on. "About my destiny, as if there is any such thing. And then you heard him, after Evie and her damn vision…"

"Yeah, that was pretty weird."

"I don't have time for any more weird. Alex is what's important right now. He could be anywhere. And when they get to that Ahm Shere place… well… they might…"

Madeline rested her hand on his arm. "We'll find him, Rick."

"I know."

"He's smart. Tough. Resourceful. He'll be fine until we catch up."

"I know."

"You don't know. You're worried out of your mind. So is your wife. And you're allowed. And I'm sorry I'm a lousy sister, because I really have not been that comforting, have I?"

He chuckled a little. "You're trying, Maddie. I'm used to you by now."

She sighed.

He poked at the fire again.

"Do you think we really have a destiny?" Madeline asked.

Rick snorted. "Please. You really believe that crap?"

"Well, everything else we didn't believe in turned out to be true, so… hey, maybe it's time to open our minds."

"Yeah, right."

"We never talk about what happened that day, you know. It's this huge mystery that may have completely changed our lives, and yet we never tried to solve it. We just swept it under the rug and pretended it never happened."

"Which worked out fine, by the way. So, uh… how's about we sweep that mystery back under the rug, huh?"

Madeline stared at him.

"What?"

She shook her head. "You're unbelievable."

He shrugged. They lapsed into silence again.

"Who do you think that guy was?" she asked suddenly. "Back in Cairo. The one who inked us?"

Rick shrugged. "No idea."

"And you're not the least bit curious?"

"Nope."

Silence.

"Well," Madeline finally said. "All right then."

"You could find out," Rick observed. "If it's important to you."

She nodded. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Think you will?"

She snorted. "I think the answer to that question is contingent on whether I make it out of this latest O'Connell adventure alive."

He smiled. "You will."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Because I'm your sister and you love me and you won't let anything happen to me?"

"Something like that."

She smirked. He smirked back. Then they fell quiet, leaning against the side of the dirigible.

"Alex will be fine, you know," Madeline told him.

"Yeah."

"I mean it. He's got you, and Evie, and all the rest of us. We've saved the world a few times in our day. We'll do it again, and we'll save Alex in the bargain."

Silence.

"Hey," Rick murmured. "You know anything about some sacred Med-jai saying?"

Madeline frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know… if I were to say that I'm a stranger traveling from the east searching for that which is lost…"

"Then I would reply that I'm a stranger traveling from the west, it is I that you seek," Madeline finished. "Who told you about that?"

"Who told _you_?"

"Ardeth. He taught me that saying like four years ago… why? Where did you hear that?"

Rick shrugged. "It was just… it was just something Dad used to say."

She looked at him. He focused on the stars.

"Dad used to say that?"

"Yeah… sometimes… I don't know, I barely remember it."

Silence.

"I don't remember him at all," Madeline commented.

"I know."

More silence. Madeline eyed the night sky, sighing.

They couldn't get to Kerma fast enough.

* * *

The dirigible touched down in the dust outside the crumbling stone ruins of Kerma. Madeline squinted against the bright sunlight, scanning the landscape for signs of anyone or anything.

The ruins were deserted. The only sound was the wind, blowing sand across the crumbling stone and mud-brick. Madeline watched her older brother and sister-in-law clamber out of the dirigible, landing heavily in the sand.

Izzy took a seat by the helm, whipping out a magazine. She could see Jonathan's gold stick poking out of Izzy's coat.

Nasira and Ardeth were climbing out of the dirigible after Rick and Evie. Madeline sighed and glanced at Jonathan, who was furrowing his brow in Izzy's direction.

"Jonathan," she said.

He didn't even look at her. "What?"

"We're looking for clues, remember? The stick can wait."

He pouted. "But I like that stick."

"Jonathan, seriously?"

"All right, all right, don't get your bloomers in a twist. I'm coming."

He shuffled after her to the side of the dirigible. Madeline hopped down, stumbling slightly in the dust.

Jonathan landed on his rear.

"Oh, bloody hell," he grumbled.

She laughed at him.

He glowered.

She gave him a hand up off the ground. He brushed off his pants, and then the two of them headed towards the ruins, several feet behind the O'Connells and the Bays.

"So what do you think it'll be this time around?" Jonathan asked. "Frogs? Rivers of blood? Death to all the firstborn sons of Egypt?"

Madeline snorted. "It's a good question. Probably none of those, though, seeing as the plague actually has to slow us down."

"The frogs might all jump into the dirigible. That would slow us down."

"How?"

"Are you bloody kidding me? I'm not flying in a dirigible jam-packed with slimy, disgusting frogs!"

"Yeah, well… in that case, I suppose we'll just leave you behind."

"Vixen. Change frogs to snakes and you know bloody well it'd be _you_ refusing to step foot on Izzy's tub."

"Fair enough."

The two of them fell silent after that. They made their way into the ruins, splitting directions inside and searching for clues.

She sighed, eyes on the ground, looking for sand castles as she picked her way through the stones. Sand, stones, sand, stones, more sand and more stones…

Evie cried out from the other end of the ruins. Madeline started and turned, seeking out her sister-in-law.

She saw her in the distance, kneeling in the sand, Rick rushing towards her. Madeline jogged in their direction.

_Tseer!_

The screech rang in her ears. There was a loud _boom!_ The ground shook with an impact tremor. Madeline toppled sideways with the force of the crash, hitting the ground and rolling over to blink up at the sky.

_Tseer!_

The heavens were suddenly on fire, flaming hail soaring across the once perfect blue sky and plummeting to the earth.

* * *

On the other side of the ruins, moments before the fiery hail began to fall, Evie dropped on her knees in the dust, her heart fluttering with excitement. The strange mound of sand she'd spotted had turned out to be another of Alex's little sculptures.

It was a raised mound with a flat top. Cut down the middle was a long, twisting canal. Little arrows pointed the way along the ravine.

"What is it?" Rick asked from beside her.

"The Nile," Evie returned certainly. "We're to follow the Nile."

"That's it? Follow the Nile? Until what?"

Evie shook her head. "Until we find Alex… or Ahm Shere."

Silence. Slowly, Evie's joy began to fade. She stared sadly at the little sculpture.

_Tseer!_

She jumped. Rick leapt to his feet, eyes on the sky. Evie looked up too, and saw the first flames drop.

Imhotep had struck again.

* * *

Nasira heard the hail before she saw it.

Her companions hit the ground, ducking into what little shelter their corners of the ruins offered.

She glanced at Jonathan beside her. He was staring open-mouthed at the sky above them, backing towards the dirigible.

Unfortunately, the dirigible was about a hundred feet from where they were standing, so retreat wasn't all that attractive an option. Nasira reached up and grabbed his arm, yanking him down into the dirt.

He landed with a muffled yelp. There was another loud _boom_ as another piece of the flaming hail hit the ground nearby. Nasira ducked. Cautiously, she poked her head back up again, frowning at the ruins around her.

_Tseer! Boom!_

The smell of smoldering rock and mud was nauseating, and it filled the air above the ruined city. Nasira crawled up on her knees, choking on the smoke, looking around for the rest of the search party.

She couldn't see her brother, or the O'Connells. Jonathan was still flat on his stomach in the dirt, staring wide-eyed at the falling fire. Allah only knows how she'd gotten stuck with him. He'd been in Madeline's company mere minutes ago, appearing in her part of the ruins just before the hail had started. Now she felt responsible for him. Nasira glanced back at the dirigible. She straightened her shoulders, suddenly determined.

"Get up," Nasira ordered, taking Jonathan by the arm and hauling him back on his knees.

"Get up?" he repeated incredulously. "Has the firestorm completely escaped your notice then, or have you gone completely daft?"

"We have to return to the dirigible," she returned calmly. "At least, we have to try. With our luck, the damn balloon has caught on fire by now. One piece of this mess landing in just the right place, and we will have a gasoline explosion on our hands."

"Oh, swell," Jonathan retorted. "Because I wasn't already on the verge of _panic_!"

Nasira tuned him out and assessed their options. The dirigible was still floating above its ballasts, and as far as she could tell, still in one piece. There was little cover between their spot behind the rocks and the place they needed to be. She sighed. Their only option seemed to be run, fast, and hope nothing hit them.

"I know what you're thinking," Jonathan announced. Nasira turned to him with a frown. "You're thinking that we're going to run blind for the dirigible and pray to one of your kooky gods that nothing hits us! Well, I for one am not having it! It's irrational! Why the bloody hell can't we just stay here until the hail stops? After all, it has to stop eventually!"

_Tseer!_

The hail streaked across the sky and landed nearby. The explosion knocked Nasira flat on her back. Jonathan hit the dirt face first.

The smell of smoldering mud intensified. Nasira looked up. The wall they'd taken cover behind had been hit. The flames were eating up the mud-bricks, coming up the line directly for them.

"You were saying?" she asked Jonathan, gesturing towards the flames.

Jonathan looked up at the fire, eyes wide. "You know, maybe I was too hasty," he said. "Your idea could work too."

Nasira looked up at the sky, checking for any hail that might be falling their way. "On the count of three," she announced. "One, two, three, _run!_"

She leapt to her feet and ran, keeping her head down. Jonathan chased after her, hollering all the way.

* * *

Madeline struggled to her feet, choking on the smoke from a nearby fire. The air smelled like sulfur and burning mud, and the fire was flaming too close for comfort. She squinted at the land around her.

She could still hear the loud screech of the falling hail. There was nowhere to run, because the hail was falling everywhere, but one thing was for sure; she had to get away from the fire. Madeline stumbled away from the flames, wiping soot from her eyes as she started jogging back towards the dirigible.

_Bam!_ She heard the impact directly next to her. The smell of smoldering mud intensified as the wall beside her burst into flames. The mud bricks crumbled and Madeline toppled sideways, ducking the tumbling rocks. Choking, she rolled onto her back, squinting at the flaming mess in front of her. The fire loomed over her, flames licking at the sky. Madeline scrambled away, trying not to breathe in the smoke. She coughed loudly, spitting ash into the dirt. Drunkenly, she got to her feet.

The flames were everywhere. Madeline's eyes traveled over her surroundings, her vision blurring from the smoke, seeing nothing but orange. She staggered forward, her head getting light.

"Oh, shit," she spat, her hand going to her head. She could _not_ pass out in the middle of a fire. She had to keep going – her life literally depended on it.

Madeline made it only a few more steps before she collapsed face first into the dust. She dragged herself a few more feet, but her vision was going dark, and her limbs were weak. Cursing to herself, Madeline made one more attempt to get back up on her feet, but only collapsed again.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Madeline twitched, trying to force herself back up, but it was pointless. Her head swam, and then she lost consciousness.

* * *

The sky had darkened, and the flaming hail was falling fast now, hitting the ground like the bombs during the Great War. Ardeth ducked his head, running from cover to cover, trying to dodge the hail and steer clear of the resulting fires. Even dodging death, he still managed to look around for his comrades. A good chieftain did not leave soldiers behind.

He found Rick and Evelyn, untouched by the fires roaring around them, seeking shelter by a wall. Jonathan and Nasira had made it back to the dirigible, and the two of them were on board with Izzy, all three of them doing their best to protect the craft from the danger. For the life of him, no matter where he looked, he could not see Madeline.

It shook him. He felt nauseous. His heart was fluttering too fast. For all the arguments and misunderstandings between them, Ardeth would never say he did not still love her. He could not deny it to anyone, least of all himself. Not being able to locate the woman he loved in the midst of a flaming hailstorm was one of his worst nightmares.

He took off in the direction he'd last seen her, still dodging the hail. The smoke stung at his eyes, and he tied his scarf around his nose and mouth, trying to keep the acrid fumes out of his lungs. The fire was raging in this part of the ruins, the flames leaping higher than his head. He hit the ground, trying to stay under the smoke.

It wasn't long before he saw the dark figure huddled on the ground, shadowy in the smoke. The fire was roaring all around her, pressing in on all sides. Ardeth swallowed the lump in his throat and grabbed Madeline's arms, pulling her towards him, away from the fire.

He crawled back the way he came, his arm around her chest, dragging her with him. Long, agonizing minutes passed as he crept away from the fire. Eventually, he was far enough away from the flames to stop crawling. Choking and coughing, he slumped to the ground, the fresh air burning his lungs. Ardeth bent over Madeline, tapping her face.

"Madeline?" he asked, shaking her. "Madeline!"

She coughed suddenly and violently. Ardeth jumped back in surprise, and then leaned back over her, stroking her hair. "Madeline," he murmured.

Her eyes fluttered open. She coughed harder, her eyes flitting all around her. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

She nodded, coughing still, and tried to sit up. He grabbed her shoulders in support, and she perched herself on her elbows, still half lying in the dirt. "Damn it," she rasped. "I think I just had déjà vu."

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She coughed again. "Hail stopped," she observed roughly.

He looked up at the sky. The black clouds and red streaks had cleared, and the sky was blue again, save the smoke billowing into the air. She was right; it had stopped hailing.

"We should return to the dirigible," he announced.

She nodded. "Thank you," she murmured. "You saved my life."

Ardeth looked away from her. "Do not thank me."

Madeline snorted. "Well, fine. After all, it's not like it's anything new. You used to save my life all the time."

The reminder of the past stung, and Ardeth cleared his throat, quickly getting to his feet. "We should go," he said again.

She struggled to sit up all the way. He extended his hand to help her off the ground. She glared at it for a moment, and then took it. Ardeth pulled her to her feet and she stumbled into his chest.

For a moment, he held her there. She stood frozen against him. Ardeth swallowed, closing his eyes, trying to regain his composure. Slowly, she straightened herself out and took a step back from him.

Ardeth opened his eyes and studied her. She looked away, eyes on the dirigible. He breathed deeply. "You are all right to walk?" he asked.

She nodded. "Perfectly."

Walk they did. She was slow and unsteady, but managed just fine. In another time, Ardeth would have hefted her off the ground and carried her, but this was not another time. It was now, and he couldn't touch her. The thought of touching her was painful.

She wouldn't look at him. They made their way back to the dirigible in silence, where everyone else was waiting for them. "Maddie, are you all right?" Jonathan asked, extending his hand to pull her onboard.

She nodded, accepting his help and climbing into the craft. "Just fine, Jonathan."

Ardeth climbed up behind her. Rick was shaking his hand, and he could hear the man thanking him for saving his sister, but he couldn't focus on the words. With a nod and a tight smile, he walked away from all of them and joined his sister at the back of the dirigible.

"I hope you're all right," Nasira said to him. Her concern was evident, but she was trying not to smother him. He appreciated the gesture.

"I am fine," he replied.

She nodded and turned away.

Ardeth watched as Rick and Jonathan pulled in the ballasts. Izzy gave his dirigible a burst of the gas, and it rose off the ground again.

The memory of her against his chest was haunting him. Ardeth closed his eyes, leaning against the rail and swallowing hard. He thought he could do this; he thought it would be easy to ignore her and forget. He had accepted his fate; he would marry Sameya Al Tufyal. He would forget Madeline O'Connell forever.

One small touch was all it had taken. He knew now that it was an impossible task. He could not forget her. Some small part of him had known that all along. Still, he'd thought he could deny the memories and move on. That eventually, he'd fall in love with Sameya, and Madeline would be nothing more than a distant ache, easy to ignore.

Now, he was no longer sure of that. The distant ache was not so distant, and it was much sharper than he'd expected. For the first time since the council had announced their intentions to arrange a marriage for him, Ardeth began to think he really could not marry Sameya Al Tufayl.


End file.
